You Jump, I Jump, Jack
by Kaitie McDonahue
Summary: James & Callie have been best friends since the first train ride to Hogwarts at age 11.  But at age 20, James finally decides to act on his love for Callie - only what to do about her fiance?  And why exactly does she keep coming home with bruises?
1. Chapter 1

**1st year.**

James Sirius Potter propped his feet up on the bench seat across from him. He was seated all by his lonesome in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express. His cousins, Fred and Louis Weasley, who were also beginning at Hogwarts, hadn't gotten on the train yet so James was forced to be by himself for a bit.

James didn't particularly like being by himself. It wasn't a common thing to come across in a family like his. Sometimes it was good. On the first train ride to Hogwarts, ever? Not so good.

Victoire had offered to sit with him until Louis finally said good-bye to their parents, but she was a prefect and had to go to the meeting. Teddy, though like another brother to James, was in his seventh and final year, and after giving Ginny, Harry, Al, and Lily hard hugs had given one to James and disappeared, off to be with his friends. Teddy had also offered to hang out with James, but James wasn't that desperate for comfort and he was pretty sure it was just Teddy pitying him in the first place, anyways. Molly and Lucy had just scurried off someplace; they'd never really taken an interest in him since he really only cared about getting to play Quidditch instead of attending the classes at Hogwarts. Dominique had attempted to talk to him for a bit, but she was anxious to find her boyfriend, Eric, so James had made her go find him. Roxanne didn't want to spend time with her brother, Fred, who was usually found with James, so she'd gone her own way.

James sighed. Three other people had all come in his compartment to find a seat, but upon seeing him they broke out into whispers and then stared heavily. He'd rolled his eyes and faced away from the intruders. They'd gotten the message and left. They were probably already spreading rumors about Harry Potter's rude child.

The compartment door slid open again and a tan, blonde girl who was probably only a little shorter than James was in the doorway.

"Hi," she smiled. Her smile was so big James thought he could see every one of her teeth, each one a pearly white. "Can I sit here? There doesn't really seem to be any room anywhere else and you looked kind of lonely anyways." She looked hopefully at him.

James snorted. Here this random girl was going to pretend to pity him just to meet the famous Harry Potter's son. It was like this all the time and he didn't want it anymore.

"Don't pretend you don't know who I am," James spat.

The girl looked confused, and just a little bit hurt at James's attitude. "Er, I don't."

She walked inside and sat down across from James, who lowered his feet off the seat. "I'm Callie Monaghan," she grinned, looking confident.

"You talk funny," said James, not keen on liking anyone outside of his family. They just wanted to know him for his name. He'd realized he had a slim chance of making any friends not related to him once he'd gotten to the platform and seen the stares.

She shrugged, still smiling. "I'm from California. It's in the States. So basically, I have an American accent. But I could say the same about you."

"That I have an American accent?" he asked in disbelief. How stupid was this girl?

"Nooo, that you talk funny, Silly."

James chuckled, more at her than with her. "Did you just call me silly?"

"I guess I did," Callie was still smiling. James wondered if she was always smiling. He didn't really want her to stop though, it was making him feel better about going to Hogwarts.

"Is your face stuck in a smile or what?"

Callie laughed. "Nope," she shook her head. "But what's not to smile about? It's sunny outside, a first for England, I'm told. The weather is still like summer. And I'm starting a school for magic when I didn't even know magic existed."

"You're muggle-born, then?" James asked, taking an interest. If this girl was muggle-born, then she definitely didn't care about his parents or family or anything. She was honestly here because she needed someplace to sit and because she thought he was lonely.

"What's that?" Callie asked.

"It means you come from parents who aren't magical."

"Well, my dad isn't. But I don't have a mom. So I guess she might be."

"I'm sorry about your mom."

"She didn't die or anything; I've just never met her," Callie shrugged. James thought her eyes looked like pictures he'd seen of the Pacific Ocean: sea-green. "What about your family?"

"I've got a younger brother and sister and a ton of cousins and uncles. And my mum and dad. And when I say a ton, I really, really mean it."

"That must be so much fun whenever you guys all get together and stuff. It'd be like having ready-made friends." Callie practically bubbled with enthusiasm.

James smiled. "I guess you're right. Oh, here two of them come."

Sure enough, Fred and Louis bounded through the door, Louis with lipstick marks all over his cheek.

James snorted. "What'd Aunt Fleur do, Louis, attack you with her mouth?"

Louis rubbed his cheek ruefully as he flipped his curly, blond hair out of his eyes. "Apparently her 'leetle boy eez all grown up' so I was subjected to this."

"Who's this?" Fred asked James, motioning to Callie with a freckle covered arm.

"This is Callie Monaghan from California. Callie, these are my cousins Fred and Louis."

"Hi, nice to meet you guys," Callie smiled and waved.

"California? Like in America? I've always wanted to go there!" Louis sat down abruptly and started chatting with her about all she knew about America and everything he wanted to do. James grinned at the sight and Fred sat down and joined in.

Boom. A great friendship of four was born.

* * *

><p>"Monaghan, Callie," a witch called Callie's name and she stepped up the stairs to the sorting hat.<p>

The ragged piece of fabric barely touched her head before it shouted, "Gryffindor!"

James breathed a sigh of relief and watched her grin at him before skipping down the steps to join the other Gryffindors at the long table on the end. She wasn't a Slytherin. She hadn't seemed like it, but at least this way there was a larger chance of them being in the same house.

James bounded up the steps when his name was called and gave the professor a haughty grin. "Gryffindor!"

A few people later and Fred was being called up. The hall felt completely silent as the hat deliberated, even with the whispers of students carrying across the huge, stone, cavern-like space. James checked his watch. It felt like it had been five minutes.

"Slytherin!" the hat shouted. Instantly, the sound in the Great Hall was silenced. No one said anything. Except for Fred, who cried, upon going towards the green-clad occupants at the table on the opposite side of the hall, "Move over Snakes, another weasel is joining the ferrets!"

James laughed. Fred would be fine. He went with the flow.

Roxanne was called up next and she was tossed into Hufflepuff after a much shorter time span than her twin brother's. Everyone's parents were going to be really surprised with the way all of this was turning out, James thought. Molly and Lucy were in Ravenclaw. Victoire was in Gryffindor and Dominique was in Slytherin. The family had two people in every house.

Louis stepped up to the stool and the hat proclaimed him a Ravenclaw. Guess Ravenclaw was taking three people, James altered his earlier statement.

Well, even if his two best mates (and favorite cousins) weren't in his house, he still had Callie, who was grinning at him as she passed him the mashed potatoes.

* * *

><p><strong>So, here is the first chapter of the story of James &amp; Callie. There are a few set-up chapters, so bear with me. It's not going to be very long, only fifteen chapters or so. But I'll be updating quickly and will get to the main storyline in a few chapters.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Summer after 1st year & 2nd year**

"Hey, Mum?" James asked, plopping himself down at the kitchen counter where Ginny was preparing dinner, muttering furiously under her breath something that sounded suspiciously like 'Why did I have to be the daughter of Molly Weasley? So much to live up to when it comes to cooking! Bloody Hell!'

Ginny looked up from the stove with a frazzled expression. "Yup?" James wasn't sure it was wise to look away from a pot of whatever that was bubbling so furiously, but he wasn't going to mention it.

"Can I have a friend over for the last few weeks of summer? And then could we bring her with us to Kings Cross too?" James ducked his head, afraid of the blush creeping up his neck onto his cheeks.

"Her?" Ginny smiled suspiciously at her son.

"Yeah, you know Callie, right? You met her at the end of the year." James tugged at his collar. Was it getting hot in the room? He ran a hand through his hair.

"I suppose so. She seemed so nice."

This relaxed James; he grinned. "She's amazing. You'll love her."

Ginny laughed. "Of course I will. What about your other friends, though?"

James grimaced. He didn't really want his mum to know about what it was like at Hogwarts. "She's really the only person I care about who I'm not related to."

Ginny frowned. "Care to explain that?"

Her son shrugged. "Everyone else just wants to get to know Harry Potter's or Ginny Potter's son, but she didn't even really know about any of it."

"She's muggle-born, right?" Ginny continued to frown. Was Callie the only friend her son had made? The only one out of all the other kids in Hogwarts, including the other muggle-borns, who didn't care about his last name?

"She doesn't know if she is or not. She might be half and half but she's never met her mum so there isn't really a way to find out since her dad's a muggle. Plus she's American," James added, "moved here a few weeks before school started, and, according to Binns, the war wasn't really heard of over there until it was over."

Ginny wasn't about to let her son miss spending time with the only friend he had outside family. "When is she coming?"

James beamed again, already excited beyond belief at the idea of his partner-in-crime coming to stay. "Two weeks."

* * *

><p>"Hey, Sunny!" James called to Callie. His nickname for her came from her bright blonde hair and her 'sunny personality'.<p>

Callie looked up from the sea of Weasleys she'd been thrust into and caught James's eye. She gave him a smirk, knowing that he was thinking up their next prank. Callie excused herself from the group and jogged over to him. "So, what's the plan, Hannibal?"

James still didn't get the muggle references she made to old TV shows and movies, but she'd told him that this one was from a ring leader / plan-maker in the show 'the A-Team'. Apparently it was a compliment. Callie had tried to get him to watch it, but there was no TV anywhere they could think of. She'd settled for taking him out to the movie theaters (he was thoroughly confused and shocked and delighted, all at the same time upon experiencing it, though he'd seen TV at home he had never been to the theaters) and making him promise that he'd visit her in California so she could introduce him to everything American.

"Not so much a plan as an execution," James replied. "Just watch."

Callie laughed. "Alright."

James gestured towards the familiar group of his uncles Bill, Charlie, and George, where Callie had just been sitting, and they watched, fascinated, as smoke started billowing out from Bill's fang earring.

The smoke rooted itself in Bill's fiery hair, causing it to stand on end in every direction and flame at the tips.

"Nice," Callie said appreciatively. "You really got the Weasley hair color into the flame."

"I try," James said. "But wait."

The flames exploded and out of them erupted a huge Welsh Green dragon, flying directly towards Charlie, who dodged and fell to the ground.

The dragon rampaged around the yard, causing the kids to laugh and the adults all laughed as they started to chase after it and try to stop its destruction. Fleur didn't laugh; she crossed her arms, tapped her toes and glared furiously at James and Callie after she'd figured out her own son hadn't done it.

"Smooth," Callie said, eyeing the impressive way in which the dragon swished its tail back and forth to swipe the adults away, battering them into the air until they fell in a heap on the other side of the lawn. It caused no lasting damage or pain, of course. Callie knew James had been careful to set some spells, though illegal, so that no one would get hurt. "Next time, let's make it squirt lemon juice out of its eyes."

James laughed. "Incredibly random, but I like the way you think."

"Of course you do, otherwise you wouldn't have stuck around me for so long."

"Who else would I have talked to in detention?"

"Right you are." Callie grinned and they clinked their glasses of water together. "Besides, I would have been bored silly and terribly depressed without you anyways," she added as she took a swig of her drink.

James beamed. Callie had a way of always making him appreciated for being _James_ Potter instead of James _Potter._

* * *

><p>"You know, you still haven't taught me how to play Quidditch," Callie said, reminding James of his promise.<p>

They were sitting on top of the roof at James's house, just outside the window they'd climbed out of. It was the middle of the night and neither one of them could sleep, so they'd decided to go outside.

The air was cool and it coated James's skin languidly as the breeze fluttered around him and Callie, then into the house through his window, making the white curtains at the sill flutter in a twirling Swan Lake.

"You haven't taught me how to surf."

Callie laughed. James loved her laugh. She would throw her head back in delight and what began as a tinkling giggle bubbled up from deep within her to her throat, where it sounded like the saddest person on earth had just found happiness. It was a contagious laugh, one that made others feel at ease around her. And it was genuine. That was something James liked about her the best: she did everything genuinely. She was a completely authentic person, one who only said what she felt and did what she wanted; there was no pretending. Callie was just herself, just Callie, through and through.

"Find a beach and waves and I'll teach you," she said. "But it's really cold here. Not like in California. When you come to California, I'll really teach you how to surf. But I want to learn Quidditch."

James liked how she said 'when' and not 'if'.

"Fine. Let's go get some brooms."

The two of them bounded down to the broom shed, searching through the cobwebs, spiders, and old how-to-fix-it-yourself magazines for brooms before leaping up into the air and riding them. James was exceedingly graceful, a natural in the air. He'd been flying since he was born, what with his mum having been a professional Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies and his dad having been Gryffindor Seeker since his first year.

Callie was clumsier in the air than James. She had the raw talent, but not the training or the practice. Ginny had seen her flying when she'd first arrived; she'd said that the girl was going to be a great flyer and that she'd probably be a pretty good Chaser if she tried a bit. But that she probably wouldn't have to try too hard.

James quickly explained the rules. Callie nodded her head along with his words, understanding them.

It was another thing James liked about Callie: she was smart, caught onto things quickly, and she didn't require babying. In fact, she hated it.

Callie took the Quaffle as James stood in front of the makeshift goal hoops they'd created out of Lily's hula hoops. She started flying towards him, swooping and soaring in a distracting pattern in an effort to make him confused as to where the Quaffle was coming from; it worked. The Quaffle shot through the left hoop so fast James could hear the 'whoosh' in the air as it went by him.

"Whoa," James said, stunned.

It was another beginning; that of two Quidditch players.

* * *

><p>Callie's face was as red as a baby Blast-Ended Skrewt as she came down to breakfast and settled herself between James and Laurie Thomas, who kept casting glances in Callie's direction and giggling.<p>

James had never particularly liked Laurie, but Callie wouldn't hear or say anything bad about anyone unless they really deserved it (and even then she usually said something in their defense) so he kept that mostly to himself. Or at least he tried to.

But it was the way Laurie was looking at Callie was what made him confused.

"What's with the red cheeks, Cal?" he asked.

Callie blushed harder. It created an odd color contrast between her tan skin and the pink blossoming on her cheekbones. "I got 'the talk' from Laurie today. Apparently my dad never thought it'd be a good idea to tell me that stuff. Most awkward moments of my life." Callie refused to meet his eyes as he burst out laughing.

"God Callie, what'd you think all the comments Fred, Louis, and I make are about? And how come you never knew?"

Callie shrugged, her face still a blazing red that clashed with her tanned skin. "It's not like it'd be a comfortable subject with my _dad._ And that wasn't the part I didn't know about."

"Oh, oh, _oh,_" James suddenly turned red too. "That sucks. Please don't start PMS-ing and kill me now."

Callie moaned and dropped her head to the table. "I feel so stupid. And I have _such_ bad cramps."

James covered his ears. "Stop, stop, stop! I do not want to hear about that!"

"Don't want to hear about what?" Louis asked, plopping into the empty seat on James's left as Fred pushed away a first year so he could slide in on the right.

"Callie's _woman troubles_," Laurie piped up.

Fred and Louis glanced at each other and got up without another word.

"See? It's not just me," James said, pointing at his cousins as they left.

* * *

><p><strong>Review, please!<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**4th year**

"Callie? You up here?" James called.

Callie sighed. "I'm over here, James."

She watched as James climbed up onto the roof of the Quidditch locker rooms where she was splayed out, staring up at the masses of stars, and sat down next to her.

"I'm sorry about Alex. It's his loss."

"James, it's fine."

"It's obviously not fine if you're sitting out here. Jesus, Cal, it's freezing out. I can see my breath!"

"You could see your breath during practice too, but you didn't complain about it then."

"That would be because I was worried about why you were chucking the Quaffle so hard at Andrew. You're not supposed to kill the Keeper, you know."

"Whatever, James. Just go away, it's fine."

"I'm not leaving until you're happy again."

Callie sighed. "Alex broke up with me because he's decided to be jealous."

"I never did like that wanker," James said, trying hard to keep himself from gritting his teeth. He had warned her about going out with Alex. But did she listen? No. "Who was the git jealous of?"

"You. He thinks you like me or whatever. And so he broke up with me because he thinks I care more about you than I do about him."

James felt his mouth go dry a bit. "What'd you say?" He hoped he'd only imagined croaking those words.

"I told him that of course I care more about you. But he didn't seem to like that too much. Then he said that it didn't matter to him because he cares more about Marissa Brighton than about me, anyways. Summary is that he's been cheating on me with her."

Callie sighed and banged her head backwards repeatedly to hit the roof of the changing rooms.

"I'm sorry, Sunny," James said. "He's an arse. Don't bother about him ever again."

"Yeah, I know he is." She exhaled and stared up at the sky. James wondered if she was she willing herself to fly away from Hogwarts and all the trouble being a teenager, and a witch, caused. "But it _hurts_."

James lay down next to his best friend and grabbed her hand, interlocking their fingers. "If it makes you feel any better, I'll always care more about you than any of my girlfriends."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

What James didn't say was that Alex had a reason to be jealous. Lately, James couldn't seem to stop touching Callie, hugging her or brushing against her. He just wanted to hold her and make her smile. Right now, he had an urge to kiss away the sad look on her face.

So he did.

It was quick, but it was enough. The second his lips barely brushed hers, it was like a spark lit. He felt a shiver run through his whole body.

James jerked back instantly.

"What was that for?" Callie laughed nervously, running a hand through her already tangled hair.

James shrugged. "Impulse."

Callie nodded. She understood. The two of them were notorious for doing whatever they had an impulse to do. They didn't like to ignore their gut.

"Alex isn't a nice guy, Cal. You're better off that it's over," James said, laying back down, careful to not touch any part of Callie except for their intertwined hands, and running a hand through his hair.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Callie smiled gratefully at him.

"Happy, again?"

"Much happier."

"Then come on. We still have that huge Transfiguration essay to write."

The two of them stood up with their hands still linked.

"You ready?" James grinned devilishly.

"You jump, I jump, Jack," Callie said.

They leaped in the air and jumped off the roof, tumbling to the soft grass below.

James didn't understand the significance of those words just yet, nor did Callie. It would take them years and years to understand it. But they had all the time in the world to get it right.

At least until a certain younger sister named Lily got James to realize just what it was he was feeling.


	4. Chapter 4

"Callie, is the popcorn done?" James called from his comfy place on the couch.

"It's coming! You're such a lazy butt, you know that?" Callie yelled from the kitchen of their flat. She walked into the living–dining room and joined James on the couch with the bowl of popcorn. "I really wonder why I let you be my roommate sometimes."

James scoffed and helped himself to popcorn. "You've lived with me for just about two years, Cal. It can't get any worse, can it?"

"That's true; I already know all of your disgusting habits. You're such a cover-hog, too."

"Oh, please, I was fifteen!" he argued. "My parents were being all annoying and not sticking you in Lily's room, so you roomed with me for the summer. It isn't like we didn't make it work."

"I don't know how waking up to you spooning me everyday was 'making it work' but I'll take your word for it."

"I had to spoon you; I wouldn't have gotten any comforter otherwise!"

Callie thought for a moment then conceded. "True. I can't help it that I like to have two comforters and a bunch of blankets on top of me, even in the summer. I did steal all the comforters; you would have to go drastic measures to get them."

"It was stifling!"

"Huh, I thought you just said you had to spoon me to get the comforter. So the comforter wasn't your goal all along, huh?" Callie teased him.

"Aw, shut up, Squirt, and start the movie," James said, pulling Callie into a headlock and then resting her on his lap.

Callie started up the movie and lay back down across James's lap and James made circles with his hand on her back. It was the most effective way to make her relax, and to calm her down. He'd learned it in their fourth year when she'd had her first fight with her _really_ long-term boyfriend (although the relationship had just started then) and she'd been crying. James had made circles on her back and the tears had stopped in minutes.

_Whoa,_ James thought, _that was six whole years ago._

Time was certainly flying by for them. They'd graduated almost two years ago. They'd taken their trip around the world together after graduation. Gotten jobs (true, they were both professional Quidditch players, but they did get paid even if Nana Weasley didn't think it was a real job); they were moving on with their lives.

James realized Callie had fallen asleep on his lap. He smiled. It wouldn't be the first time. She looked so peaceful in her sleep, unlike the mischevious smirk or grin she usually wore when awake. James's hand twitched with his effort to restrain himself from smoothing Callie's hair away from her face.

The movie was sort of near the end. Callie had said it was a crime not to have seen the movie, _the Titanic_. He didn't think it was too much of a crime, but he went along with it because the movies Callie made him watch were usually good. Even the chick flicks.

The familiar line jolted him. _"You jump, I jump." _The 'Jack' was left unspoken, but the look the two characters were sharing was impossible to misunderstand.

James didn't need the quick flutter his heart made to recognize those words. The words were something of a mantra between him and Callie.

Whenever he asked her to do something that was slightly wild or crazy, she'd always respond with, "You jump, I jump, Jack."

He'd taken to answering that way, too, whenever she asked him to do something.

But the characters in the movie, they were so obviously in love.

James spared a glance down at the sleeping form of Callie, lying in his lap. Did she love him? Was that why she'd said those words? Or was it just because she trusted him?

James didn't want to think about all of the time he'd spent being jealous of her boyfriend, Ryan, as he watched him kiss her, make her laugh, hold her, hug her, everything he wasn't allowed to do in a non-platonic way.

He'd once voiced this to his mum in a fit of delirium brought on by extreme jealousy and she'd looked at him knowingly and said, "I knew since you asked to invite her over here that first summer after you started Hogwarts. You looked so happy. I knew then that this girl meant the world to you."

And Callie did. She meant the world to him. James knew that if Callie died or disappeared he would probably go mental. Without her, life was bleak and gray.

But Callie didn't feel that way for him. Of course she didn't. She'd come running to him with a huge grin on her face the second that Ryan had told her he loved her. She'd come running to him because he was the best friend that she confided in. Not the guy she loved.

James ran a hand through his hair and messed it up. His dad had laughed the first time he'd done that, saying that _his_ dad had done that all the time and that his mum had hated it. But Callie had always found it funny.

James winced and berated himself for that thought. Callie wasn't his Lily. They'd always been best friends. They'd never hated each other or anything like that. And they weren't going to die. James shook his head and tried to get the thoughts out of his brain. He'd always been too literal with comparisons of people.

Callie stirred and moved away from James, who let out his breath as she did so.

"Is the movie over?" she asked sleepily.

James nodded. "So, 'You jump, I jump, Jack' was from this movie?" he asked awkwardly. Might as well get the important question out of the way now.

Callie turned slightly pink but other than that she didn't look embarrassed. "Yeah. I thought it fit, kind of. 'Cause I would do anything for you like the way Rose would do anything for Jack."

James felt his throat close up. He swallowed hard and said, only half-joking, "Aw geez, Cal, I didn't know you cared so much."

Callie chuckled but her laugh didn't reach her eyes. "You turn moments that should be all sweet and sentimental into jokes." Callie grabbed the nearly empty bowl of popcorn and went into the kitchen, leaving James, as fast as she could, it seemed.

_If I don't make it a joke, then I'll say something I'll regret_, James thought.

Callie came back into the room with an armful of blankets and dumped them on top of James. She flopped onto the couch and crawled underneath them, curling up against her best friend with her head on his lap, making sure he got some blankets too.

"Night, James," she said, yawning.

"You do realize that our beds are only a few feet away, right?" James asked, looking down at the girl in his lap, trying not to let a tender smile grow on his face.

Callie nodded. "I don't think I can walk that far, so I'm just going to sleep right here."

James chuckled but maneuvered out from underneath Callie and picked her and all the blankets up into his arms.

"What're you doing?" she asked through a yawn.

"Carrying you to your bed because you're going to complain tomorrow if you sleep on the couch."

James put Callie on the bed and tucked her beneath the covers, kissing her forehead before leaving to go to his room.

"James?" a voice said softly.

He turned around to see Callie looking at him.

"Stay with me, please?" she asked.

James knew he should say no, go into his own bed in the next room. But it was Callie, and he couldn't do it. So instead, he nodded and sat in the rocking chair by the window which showed the black street and a single street lamp glowing orange.

"No," Callie shook her head. "In the bed."

James raised an eyebrow but climbed into the bed, staying on the edge and away from Callie. What was she playing at?

Callie sighed and James knew she was exasperated. The next second she was tugging on his arm and pulling him into the center of the bed with her. James, not knowing what was going on but knowing she just needed to feel him for a bit, wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, rubbing her back lightly and kissing her forehead again.

"I love you, James," Callie said.

James sighed. "Love you too, Cal." She would never know that he loved her in such a different way that what she thought he did.

* * *

><p><strong>Review, please!<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

"What movie did you guys watch last night?" Lily berated her older brother for what felt like the billionth time.

James rolled his eyes and took another sip of his firewhiskey. It was too entertaining for him to experience Lily's pleading. He was going to hold off telling her just to enjoy it a bit longer.

Lily sat down in the lawn chair next to James. It was June and Lily had just finished her fifth year at Hogwarts; Albus had just graduated. It was the off season for Quidditch so James (and Callie) had a few months off before he had to get back into the swing of things.

"Please tell me," Lily begged, opening her eyes really wide and pouting.

"Why does it matter so much, Lils?" James asked, setting the bottle down and turning to stare at his belligerent younger sister. "It's just a movie."

"But it's so romantic the way you guys hang out and sit together and watch movies and just enjoy being with each other without having to do anything," Lily swooned. "And I want to know what movie you watched this time."

James chuckled. Lily had never gotten the idea out of her head, no matter how many times he told her otherwise, that he and Callie were together.

"Lils, I've told you a hundred times, Callie and I aren't together. We're just friends."

"But you live together," Lily pointed out.

James rolled his eyes in frustration and snatched the bottle of firewhiskey back up, taking a long drink. He loved Lily, but God, she could be so annoying sometimes.

"We watched the Titanic. Happy?" he'd finally cracked.

Lily's eyes widened for real this time. Her jaw dropped too, and James repressed the urge to roll his eyes for the third time in a minute.

Then, she smirked. It was such a scary smirk that James was reminiscent of his cousin Rose's boyfriend's, Scorpius Malfoy's, smirk. Correction, James reminded himself. Rose's fiancé and the father of her baby, who still didn't have a name.

"So," she began, leaning back in her chair and looking very smug indeed, "you heard the line. Your little mantra, in between a few confessions of love and some simpering glances."

James choked on the sip of liquid he'd just taken into his mouth. "What?"

"You heard it, right? The two of you always say 'You jump, I jump, Jack'. And you watched the Titanic. So that means you must've seen where it comes from. So, tell me, how was it?"

"How was what?" James asked, truly baffled for one of the few times in his life. He may not have been a Ravenclaw, and most people assumed he was dumb, but that was nowhere near true.

"The shagging, of course!"

James's eyes widened to the side of golf balls. "Lily!"

Lily giggled. "Well, it's pretty logical, you'll admit. You figured out where the quote comes from, you two admit your ridiculous and sappy love for each other, and then you shag each others' brains out."

"I cannot believe you know that language," James groaned.

Lily waved a hand. "Oh, please, you taught it to me. And it's not like I haven't been caught in a few broom closets in my time. I'm sixteen, what'd you expect?"

"What?" James cried, rounding on his sister.

"Kidding, James," she replied, making it her turn to roll her eyes.

James relaxed back in his seat, pretending to believe her. Of course she wasn't kidding, but he felt that it was safer to believe that she was.

"_So_, tell me!" Lily repeated.

"Nothing happened! We're not in love with each other, Lily, no matter how much you wish we were."

There was a twinkle in Lily's eyes. "Oh, please, I've seen the way you look at her. And don't think I don't know about all the times you beat up her boyfriends," James grimaced as he remembered punching Alex Thomas when he'd cheated on her in fourth year – Callie should've known not to go out with Laurie's brother, after all, "and the times you've kissed her, pretending you just had an 'impulse' to."

James gaped at her. "Have you been spying on me?"

"Hah!" Lily cried. "So you admit it!"

"I – what – er – no!"

Lily grinned triumphantly. "You do too love her!"

James sighed and ran a hand through his hair and down over his face. "Yeah, yeah, I love her. It's not going to make a difference, though, because she's still with Ryan."

Lily's smile contorted itself into a frown. "That git? The one who's jealous because she lives with you and not him?"

James nodded. "To be fair, though, that's a pretty good reason. I mean, come on, who wants their girlfriend living with some other guy?"

"Especially because he knows exactly how you feel about her," Lily agreed.

"What? No he doesn't! You're the only one who knows!"

Lily burst out laughing. "You actually think that? Everyone knows! I'm pretty sure everyone's known all along. Mum and Dad actually have a bet going as to when you're going to admit to her what you feel and what she does when you do! James, this is _our_ family, we're talking about. Of course they know."

James slumped. "That doesn't mean Ryan knows."

"Oh, he knows. He definitely knows if you've done any of the stuff you normally do with her in front of him."

"What d'you mean?"

"Like how you put your arm around her every chance you get – shoulder and waist, how you two bump hands constantly. You play with her hair, in case you haven't noticed, you sometimes put your hand on her back when the two of you are walking, etc., etc., etc.," Lily listed off.

James smiled sheepishly. He couldn't help it. He felt like he had to be near her, to touch her somehow. He'd never get to do it in any way that he really wanted to, what with Ryan around, but this way it still made him feel close to her. And Callie liked to be touched. She was a touchy-feely person. She liked to be hugged and held. So it wasn't a crime. Not at all.

"Lils, she's not in love with me. So just bugger off, alright?" James grumbled.

But instead of turning and walking away, Lily just grinned like the Cheshire Cat on Christmas morning. "Oh, she's definitely in love with you, and I'll show you just how much."

James groaned and slid down in his seat as Lily flounced off to create her devious plan. Whatever she was going to do, it was all going to go horribly, horribly _wrong_.

* * *

><p>Callie missed California.<p>

It wasn't the kind of miss that could be satisfied with a few pictures, a documentary on the place, nothing like that. It was the kind of miss that had her heart aching and yearning to be there. She wanted to be able to walk out her back door right onto the beach; to dive into the freezing ocean water, with sticky sand between her toes; to glide on top of the waves. Callie's fingertips were tingling just thinking of holding a surfboard or making a sandcastle.

She felt weak, not being able to handle living in London after all the years that she'd done it.

Sometimes she felt weak because she couldn't handle showing emotions. Sure, she showed when she was happy, but not too often when she was upset. James had probably only seen her upset or sad a total of four times. And he could probably count on one hand how many times he'd seen her angry.

James. Callie sighed. That brought her back to the California issue. She needed to go to California. It wasn't much of an option for her. She just plain missed it too damn much. But what about James?

And how long did she want to be there, anyways? Callie didn't know. She didn't know if she wanted to move there. But if she did, she might have to quit her job, leave all her friends behind in England. And that was something Callie never wanted to do.

But California was like her Tara. Whenever she was away, she yearned to be there. And it felt like it was slowly killing her.

"Hey, I'm home!" James called, walking into the flat and shutting the door loudly behind him, dropping his keys beside Callie's on the table just inside the door. "Callie?"

Callie sighed and stood up, went over to her best friend and hugged him.

James knew she was just hugging him, like usual. But he couldn't help it. He dropped his coat onto the ground and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer than normal. He put his face in the crook of her neck and inhaled her scent: citrus and Dove soap. Sometimes she'd smell like chlorine, whenever she went swimming. But James remembered one time when they'd finally gone to California, on their round the world trip after graduation. She'd taught him how to surf and he'd never seen her looking more at home than ever in the ocean. He couldn't help but remember the smell of the Pacific on her, mixing with citrus and soap.

Callie tightened her arms around James and put her head on his chest.

James looked down at his best friend and, as embarrassing as it was, he felt like his heart was swelling. He had no idea why she was hugging him so tightly and for so long, but he wasn't going to protest.

He couldn't help it. He couldn't. James took away an arm from around her and used it to lift her head. Her eyes were wide and blue. She looked vulnerable. But she looked resolved, too, when she realized what he was going to do. Her eyes widened but she didn't turn away, didn't flinch, when James pressed his lips to hers.

What she did do, was kiss him back. It was practically instantaneous.

James pulled her even closer, reveling in this feeling. Their lips moved together, and James felt a tingly feeling in his stomach. He wanted to get her closer. He wanted to be this close to her for the rest of his life.

Callie had the same tingly feeling, and she was drowning in it. James. That's who was giving her this feeling. The feeling of being wanted, needed. She definitely felt wanted with James prodding his tongue at her lips, in her mouth, across her teeth, battling with her own.

James couldn't get enough of her. He walked forward until Callie's back was up against a wall. He pressed one hand up against the wall by her head and let the other explore. He dropped his lips to her neck and heard her moans, all because of him.

Callie felt herself putting her hands all over James. She felt just as hungry for him as he did for her. She slid her hands beneath his shirt and tugged on the waistband of his jeans. She heard his breath catch.

Callie looked up, and suddenly realized.

She wasn't just kissing James. _She was kissing James._ It was James who was here, with desire, _for her_, burning in his eyes, and obviously his pants, she realized as she noticed what that thickness was pressing between them. It was James who'd had his tongue down her throat only a few moments ago. It was James who had left the love-bites on her neck, the ones she wouldn't be able to explain to Ryan.

Oh, shit. Ryan. Her boyfriend.

"James, I," Callie said, mortified, horrified. "I'm sorry; I don't know what came over me."

James backed away, his eyes changing from burning desire to yearning and hurt, and looked away. He chuckled dryly. "That line only works if you kissed me first, Cals. Hate to break it to you, but I kissed you." James walked away and picked up his jacket where he'd dropped it and stuck it on the hook next to the table.

He wasn't going to let on how much she'd hurt him. He didn't look at her as he walked into the kitchen and started making dinner.

James tried to ignore Callie's eyes staring at the back of his head. But he couldn't do it. Finally he spun around. "What?" he almost shouted, frustrated.

Callie bit her lip and James was immediately worried by another show of vulnerability. Callie wasn't usually like that. "What?" he asked again, softer.

"I think I want to go back to California. Permanently."

* * *

><p><strong>Review, please!<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

"You what?" James whispered, too surprised to be angry, yet.

"I think I'm going to go back to California" Callie repeated.

"What about Quidditch?" James asked, though he was really thinking, What about me?

Callie shrugged. "There're a few American teams I can try to get onto. There's one actually based in California. It's only about a day's drive away from where I grew up and I can always Apparate."

"And what about Ryan? You're just going to leave him? Leave everyone here? What about my family? We've treated you like you were part of our family ever since we met, and you just want to ditch them? All because you're a little homesick?" James bit out harshly. Oh, he'd passed the surprised stage and had sprinted headlong right into the furious stage, now.

"Don't you dare do this, James Potter!" Callie shouted and James took a step back. "I hardly ever do anything for myself! And just once, I want to, and all you do is start yelling at me. How the hell did I put up with you all these years? You're being selfish, and you don't even know it. Maybe you really are a narcissistic asshole like your brother says and maybe I just didn't realize it!"

"Oh, what, and Ryan's so perfect?"

"What the hell does Ryan have to do with this?"

"If you're moving halfway across the world don't you think he'll be a little upset?"

"Why would he if he's moving with me?"

James took another step back. "He's going with you? Why the hell would he do that?"

"Oh, I dunno James, maybe because we're engaged!"

"You're what?" James's voice dropped to a low whisper. No, it couldn't be, it just couldn't...

"He proposed this morning, right after I told him I wanted to go to California. You would've known if you ever asked about me! All you care about is yourself!"

"You're marrying the wanker?" James cried, unbelieving. This just couldn't be true, it couldn't. His Callie couldn't marry anyone. She was supposed to end up with him! Lily said so! "How can you go off and marry him after how you just reacted to me kissing you?"

"Stop calling him that! And yes, I'm going to marry him! Get it through your thick skull! Sometimes it's not about you, alright? Sometimes, it gets to be about me." Callie looked at James in disgust. She stormed off and grabbed her coat, leaving the flat and slamming the door so hard that it seemed to rattle the building.

Shit, James thought. He sank to the ground and sat against the cabinets. He'd had a fight with Callie, when he was supposed to fix everything and get her to fall in love with him. And Callie had _yelled._ She'd _shouted_. She never did that. She'd said he was selfish, and an asshole.

And she was marrying Ryan. The asshole of all assholes. And there was nothing he could do about it. Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit.

* * *

><p>"What the hell did you do?" an angry and irate Ryan Finnigan stormed into the flat, yelling at the top of his lungs at James.<p>

"Excuse me?" James asked, standing up from his position on the couch and setting down the nasty mixture of scotch and whisky he'd been drinking.

"Callie comes storming in, screaming and crying, so what did you do?" Ryan demanded. "You must've done something! She never cries!"

James scoffed. Sure she did. Barely ever, but she did. "Of course she cries; you just never see it. God, you're a dick. She's upset, so you automatically blame me. Got a little grudge, huh? Why d'you think it's my fault, anyways? Maybe it's yours."

* * *

><p>James arrived at his old house with a bloody lip. Lily opened the door. "What the hell happened to you?"<p>

James shrugged moodily and pushed past his sister inside. "She's leaving. She's going back to California, and she's marrying Ryan." James closed his eyes and sighed. "Shit."

"She's what?"

"I got home. And for some reason, I snogged her. I don't know why, I just did. But she kissed me back. And then we got into a huge fight because she said she wanted to go back to California permanently and then she said that Ryan had proposed to her this morning. Argh, why am I even telling you this?"

Lily smirked. "Who else is going to help you?"

James rolled his eyes. He paced angrily around the kitchen. "Lils, he's _awful_. He was a complete man whore throughout Hogwarts, up until he got with Callie, but he's _still_ one, really. How can she just ignore that?"

Lily shrugged. "Maybe he changed for her. Besides, weren't you a man whore, too? Still are, a little bit. When was the last time you were actually in a relationship? Maybe Ryan changed. You don't know."

"Lily, he _hasn't_."

"You just don't want to believe it. Moving on," Lily said when James showed every indication of arguing further, "you have even less time now to prove to her that you're the right one."

"Huh?"

Lily sighed with exasperation. "You know her best, James. Always have, always will. You just have to show her that. You just have to show her that she loves you more than Ryan."

"Don't I have to show her that I love her more than Ryan does?" James asked.

"Nope. You tell her that once, maybe twice, she gets the picture. But she'll have to choose between her best friend and her boyfriend, and she just needs to take a close look at who she can live without."

James's head lifted up. "Live without?" he asked hoarsely. "What, she's just going to go to California and never see me again?"

Lily nodded her head a bit. "It might happen, James, if you scared her a lot with that kiss of yours. If she's afraid, then she might stay away. So we just have to prove to Callie that she needs you. And honestly, I don't think you have to do much prodding. She'll realize it just before she goes or a little bit after she gets there."

"How do you know?"

"How do you not?" Lily almost snapped.

"My head is a little fuzzy at the moment," James snapped back.

Lily shrugged. "Suit yourself, James, but it's yours and Callie's happiness on the line, dear older brother."

* * *

><p>Callie slumped against the side of the couch. She wasn't going to cry. She <em>would not<em> cry.

He'd been apologetic. It'd been a fluke. He wasn't ever going to do it again, so she should just forget about it.

Of course, every time she looked in the mirror for the next week or so, she'd see the damage.

The bruises on her arm could be covered up. He'd only grabbed a little too hard. Really. They weren't that bad. But she couldn't let James see them. He'd instantly be suspicious because of their shape: that of fingerprints. Otherwise, he wouldn't look twice. In their profession, it was common to have lots of bruises and cuts and scrapes.

But the giant black eye Callie was sure she was sporting now was too much of a dead giveaway.

She shouldn't have told Ryan about the kiss. It had just shaken her up so much. She needed to talk to someone about it. Usually, she'd talk to James. But that obviously hadn't been a choice in this situation. It's not like she'd said anything past, "James kissed me," before Ryan went berserk.

It's not like she'd said she'd enjoyed it. More than any kiss or anything _else_ from Ryan. Jesus, she wished he'd kissed her like that before. Just to know what it felt like. But she'd probably never admit that out loud.

She needed to heal her bruises somehow. Or at least cover them up. Use concealer. She'd always been rubbish at healing charms.

"Callie? Are you here?" James called, closing the door behind him.

_Shit_, thought Callie. How was she supposed to get rid of the bruises now? Ryan had promised he would never do it again, and he kept his promises, but that wouldn't stop James from being absolutely furious. He'd probably beat up Ryan so badly that he'd be lying unconscious St. Mungo's for about five years.

"Yeah," she called. She'd just have to hope he went for the lie. And that her scratchy voice didn't betray the almost-tears. "Over here."

"Hey, so, I wanted to talk to you about – oh my god, Sunny, what happened?" James dropped to his knees in front of her, tilting her head from side to side to get a good look at the bruise. Then he noticed the bruises on her arm. He inhaled sharply when he put his hands against them lightly, lining up every finger. His faced hardened, as did his voice. "What happened?" the words came out terse and tense.

"Dave and I were trying tactics," Callie said. Dave, another Chaser on their Quidditch team was notorious for always trying out new things he'd heard. "He slipped on his broom and grabbed onto my arms. My head bumped into the broom cause of his weight. Hence the black eye and the fingerprints."

Callie had never been very good at lying; James knew that. She just hoped he didn't notice it this time around.

James scrutinized her. "Callie…" he said softly. He didn't believe her. "You haven't been stupid enough to try out tactics with Dave since your first season. What happened?"

"N-nothing, James, just leave it alone," Callie stood up and walked into the kitchen, beginning to make the dinner neither of them had had earlier. It was nearing eleven o'clock at night, now, and she was starving.

"He did this, didn't he?"

Callie stopped. That was his murderous voice. That was the voice he'd had when he'd come back to the common room that night after he'd found Rose, hurt brutally by Trayson York. That was the voice he'd had when he'd told her that he'd decided to be an auror. That was the voice he'd had when he'd quit being an auror and joined the Quidditch team she'd been on.

"That's why you're not saying anything, isn't it? You're protecting him." James gave off a maniacal laugh. "God, after what he did to you, why would you protect him?"

Callie turned around and marched up to James, poking him in the chest. "It was an accident," she said fiercely, her eyes narrowed. "It's never going to happen again; he promised it wouldn't, so we're going to act as if he didn't happen at all, now. He felt awful."

James's eyes narrowed as well. "Is that what he told you? Merlin, I'm going to kill him."

"Don't you dare!"

"He hit you! He physically abused you! Why would you stay with a man like that?" pleaded James. "You deserve so much more than that. Sunny, you're so much better than that. You deserve so much better than that asshole. Don't you see?"

She just glared at him.

"Callie," James begged. He grabbed onto her hands.

"Stop it, James. Nothing's wrong. I'm fine, see?" Callie managed a small smile. James only relaxed a tiny bit, noticing that she still had the ability to smile. If she ever lost that, she'd really be gone. "James, it was an accident, really. He didn't mean to. I promise."

"Fine," James muttered. "But this isn't the last you'll hear of it, I can guarantee you that. And the second you think he's going to do anything or you get worried or _anything_, you are going to send me a patronus or scream for me or send up a goddamn flare or something. Got it?"

Callie nodded. "I got it."


	7. Chapter 7

Callie moved the food around on her plate with her fork.

James nudged her with his elbow and motioned towards her plate. She usually ate up all the chicken pot pie in a heart beat.

Callie just shrugged, hoping no one else at dinner would pick up on it. Thankfully, James's family kept on eating, discussing the baby Rose had had a week or so earlier (she and Scorpius had finally decided on a name: Hermia Jane Malfoy, nicknamed Mia) and Al's first day of Quidditch training to start the next day.

"Lily, what are you planning on doing tomorrow?" Ginny asked, picking up everyone's plates and depositing them into the sink before coming back and forcing James to get up and serve everyone dessert. She gave Callie a worried and disapproving look upon seeing how full her plate still was.

Lily shrugged taking a spoonful of Molly's apple pie. "I think I'll just hang around here, maybe fly a bit. Can Mark come over? We were going to try to work on some plays."

James, Al, and Harry instantly had murderous looks on their faces.

"Who's Mark?" Harry asked, his fork hovering over his plate.

Lily rolled her eyes and laughed. "Calm down, Dad. He's just a friend." She took a bite of her apple pie. "You three," she motioned to her dad and brothers, "are just way too overprotective. It's not like he's going to come over here and hold me down while he rapes me. Jeez, guys, don't be so dramatic about everything."

She had no idea what she'd just said, but everyone else around the table immediately tensed up.

James's hand flew to Callie's knee. Callie reached down, put her hand on top of his and squeezed it.

Lily had no idea what had happened to her cousin Rose. Most of the family didn't. Only the Potter part (excluding Lily) and Rose's parents. Her brother, Hugo, didn't even know. All of that had just come to light pretty recently, around the time she'd become pregnant with her and Al's best friend, Scorpius Malfoy.

But James had found Rose right after it had happened. He'd been the one to stun the boy, his pants still open, and to pull Rose up and carry her away, sprinting as fast as he could. The memory was what he'd encountered when he'd faced his boggart during auror training. That, and Callie lifeless on the ground, their two figures alternating with the rest of his family. Dementors made him relive the moment he saw what was happening to Rose, right before he ran to her side.

Lily just alluding to what had happened, unknowingly, caused all of their hearts to stop beating for a moment. And to practically use it as a joke…

"Don't kid about those things, Lily," Albus said darkly. He stabbed his pie angrily.

"Fine," Lily continued, "it's not like he's going to come over and deflower me, or come over and beat me up, or come over and destroy the house."

James's hand tightened on Callie's leg. Her hand tightened on his, too.

Lily was just hitting all the high points tonight.

Ginny looked over at her oldest son and Callie. "You two okay over there?" she frowned.

They nodded. Not very convincingly, though.

But Ginny let it go.

"So, Al, are you excited to start aur-Quidditch training tomorrow?" Ginny changed the topic.

Al nodded. "Yup." He ignored her mishap.

Ginny sighed at her son's monosyllabic answer. James wanted to laugh; there were some times when they just couldn't be bothered to talk. Auror-anything, was usually included, even if it was never even actually mentioned.

It was almost a taboo subject since James had quit.

He'd just stormed out saying that he wasn't his father. That wasn't the only reason why he'd quit, but it was the only one he'd given.

He'd decided to become an auror right after Rose had been raped. He wasn't going to let anything like that happen to anyone else, ever again.

James figured he'd lost some of that innocence Holden Caulfield was always talking about. But he'd lost even more when he'd realized that he'd never be able to eradicate evil.

And so he'd turned back to Quidditch; his rage and frustration put into his throwing arm and aggressiveness on the pitch.

James saw his parents share a glance and almost laughed. They knew they weren't getting anything out of their kids, tonight.

* * *

><p>"Rose!" James cried, seeing his cousin at the door to his flat, holding a little baby girl in her arms.<p>

He grabbed her into a tight hug, careful to avoid baby Mia.

"How are you? How's my favorite goddaughter?"

Rose smiled. "I'm good. She's good. And she's Albus's goddaughter, too."

James shrugged. "She likes me better."

As if to prove his point, Mia reached her tiny arms out of the bundle towards James.

James smirked at Rose, who just rolled her eyes, and took Mia from her, cradling the little girl in his arms.

"James? Did I hear Rose come in?" Callie asked, walking out of her bedroom. "Oh, Rose, you are here!" She gave Rose a hug, too, and turned to look at James. "Are you planning on stealing Rose's baby?" she asked with a twinkle in her eye. James had always loved kids.

James stuck his tongue out at his best friend. He rocked Mia and made silly faces at her. She giggled and grabbed his nose.

Callie looked at James holding Mia and felt butterflies in her stomach. He looked so happy, so content. It was like the whole world narrowed down to the two of them: James and the little baby girl in his arms.

Rose glanced over and gave Callie a knowing look. That girl was way too observant for her own good. Not nearly as observant as Lily, though, Callie acknowledged. It'd have been worse if Scorpius had been there, too. He picked up on everything, except for anything that had to do with Rose..

Callie shifted and stalked quickly into the kitchen. "Do you want some tea or something, Rose?"

"Um, no thanks," she replied, taking her daughter back from her cousin. "Can't have any caffeine with the breast feeding."

James made a disgusted face.

Rose just laughed. "One day, you're not going to think it's so disgusting, 'cause someone's going to be doing it for your baby."

James ignored the fleeting image of Callie cradling a baby with tufts of black hair in her arms and strolled into the kitchen.

"Did you stop by for any particular reason or just to gross us out and mooch off our food?"

"No real reason," Rose settled herself down at the kitchen table with Mia in her lap. "I just felt like stopping by and – Callie! What happened to your face?"

James whipped around to see Callie turning red over by the stove.

"Oh, um," she stumbled, "I was trying tactics with this guy on the team, Dave. I should've known better," she laughed. "He's notorious for getting everyone injured while trying out something new. I don't know what possessed me to try it."

"Oh. It looks like someone took a whack at you."

There was a crash and James looked down to see the plates he'd been holding in pieces all over the tile.

"I got it," he muttered and dropped to knees, beginning to pick up the pieces.

Rose giggled and waved her wand. The plates repaired themselves and settled in a stack on the counter next to the sink. "I forget I have magic, too, sometimes."

Callie laughed at them. She took the plates from the counter and placed them back in the cabinet.

Her sleeve fell back as she did so and James witnessed a purple blotch, at the beginning stages of blossoming into a bruise, around her forearm.

He sucked in a breath and ignored Rose's concerned look after he did so.

He'd suspected something when she'd put on a long-sleeved shirt in the summer. But he'd hoped he'd been wrong; he'd hoped she was just feeling cold or a little sick or something.

James had hoped that Ryan hadn't done anything to her, again. Ryan had broken the promise he'd made Callie; he'd hurt her again.

* * *

><p><strong>I know this chapter was a little slow and kind of uneventful, but the next chapter has some action in it! Guess what kind...<strong>

**Review, please!**


	8. Chapter 8

James's hands slid over Callie's hips, down, down her legs. His tongue slid, licked, punctured her defenses as it made its way up her stomach. He sucked on her nipple and felt her body arch beneath his.

…he slid into her, a groan releasing from his throat.

"James," she begged, "James. _James_."

"Callie, Sunny," he moaned as he thrust.

"James!"

James bolted upright on the couch, sweating.

"Are you alright?" Callie gave him a concerned look. She sat down on the couch next to him and faced him.

"Oh, er, I'm fine," James grabbed a pillow and put it on his lap to hide the evidence of his dream.

Unfortunately, Callie saw. She giggled and started to get up. "I heard the sounds you were making in your sleep, James. Don't bother trying to hide it. You can have the shower before me so you can fix it.

James's cheeks colored bright red. "Or you could fix it," he added haughtily. The words had escaped his mouth before he could stop them.

Callie gave him a glare before a smirk crossed her face. She sat back down on the couch.

James's eyes widened. "Wha-what are you doing?"

Callie laughed. "Acting on impulse. Remember when we used to do that?"

James didn't know how to answer, because just then, Callie straddled him and pressed her lips on his.

_Shit_, was all he could think. Then, _oh sweet baby Jesus._ He wondered where he'd picked up on all the religious sort-of swearing. It's not like his family went to church or temple or anything.

But that thought was quickly squashed when Callie pulled his shirt off.

His hands moved up her stomach, under her shirt, to cup her breasts. He rubbed the pads of his thumbs across her nipples over her bra. She arched against him, for real this time, no longer just a dream, a moan falling from her lips.

Callie ground her hips into James's. He groaned and pulled her shirt and bra up over her head. He sucked on a nipple, the gasps she was making and the tremors running through her as his tongue lavished her skin just urged him on, his tongue leaving goose-bumps in its wake.

Then James realized who he was doing this with.

_What on earth was she doing?_

Then it hit him. She was getting back at Ryan. And this was the way she'd decided to do it.

He pushed Callie off of him roughly. "What the hell?" he spat. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"What? James?"

"I'm not your rebound," he snarled. "Just because you're upset about Ryan doesn't mean you get to use me for revenge."

"James," Callie's eyes pleaded with him.

"No," James shook his head. "I'll pretend it never happened because as far as I'm concerned right now, it didn't. I have no idea what came over you, and I don't want to know."

"Jesus, James," Callie muttered. "I heard you moaning my name in your sleep."

James stopped on his way to the kitchen and turned around to face his best friend.

"Don't tell me you didn't, Jamie. Don't lie about it."

James winced at the nickname. She'd first heard it when she'd stayed over at his house summer after first year. She'd often used it since.

"Fine," James snapped. "It was you I was dreaming about. So, what? You suddenly decide that you want to fuck me and damn it all to hell, including Ryan? You want to cheat on him for revenge, I'm all for it. But not with me. I'm not your rebound guy."

"James."

Callie's voice came clear as crystal, penetrating James's thoughts. It was the sound of her pleading with him. He didn't think he'd ever heard her do it before today.

James didn't turn around. "Shit, Cal," he mumbled, facing the wall. "I love you, okay? I love you. I want to be with you, I want to make love to you, not fuck you. I don't want you to be with Ryan, not only because he's an abusive jerk who I want to maim with my bare hands. I'm not going to help you cheat on him for vengeance; if you want to bang me, I'd rather you do it because you love me, too."

James shook his head and walked out of the flat, leaving Callie standing after him.

Little did he know those three words were echoing around in her head, directed at him.

She'd loved him since she was sixteen. She'd held it in, watching him go through girl after girl. There was no way he could love her back. So she hadn't said it.

Now that he had, though, what was she supposed to do?

Callie pulled her discarded shirt quickly over her head. God, what a humiliating thing for her to do. She'd practically jumped him. And she was _engaged._ She was getting _married._ And not to James.

She'd just cheated on Ryan.

Oh, shit, he couldn't find out about that.

There was no telling what he would do.

* * *

><p>Callie opened the door two nights later, two nights gone without speaking to James, just as she was fastening on her earrings to see Ryan standing there, looking almost delectable in a suit and holding a single rose.<p>

"Hey, Callie," Ryan stepped inside the flat and kissed Callie gently, handing her the flower.

She tried to push the thought out of her head, but couldn't: that was about the only way he was gentle with her nowadays.

"Just let me get my lipstick and purse, then I'll be ready to go." Callie placed the rose in a vase in the kitchen before grabbing her bag.

Ryan nodded and closed the door to the flat behind him. "Where's your roommate?"

Callie heard the contempt dripping from his voice.

"He's at his parents' house. They're all having dinner together."

"How come ya never have dinner with your dad?"

Callie stopped and turned towards him. Really? "He lives in the States," she said. "On the other side of the world, remember?"

"Oh, right," Ryan nodded sheepishly. "Sorry, I knew that. Me mind's just kind o' a jumble right now. So much goin' on at work."

Callie nodded. He worked in the family business: hotels. His dad, Seamus Finnigan, ran an immensely successful chain of hotels which looked more like cozy inns than parts of a big franchise. They were located all over the world with the headquarters in Belfast, where Seamus had grown up.

Callie and James had stayed mostly in Seamus's hotels when they'd taken their trip around the world after graduation from Hogwarts the summer before they started work.

"It's alright," she said. She smoothed out her dress. "Ready to go?"

Ryan nodded. He took her arm and apparated them to a posh new restaurant in Diagon Alley.

The hostess seated them almost immediately and Callie settled the napkin on her lap before taking a delicate sip of her wine.

She hated wine. Ryan loved it. Callie would much rather have straight up alcohol or beer. Even firewhiskey was better than wine. Though she came from California, and her grandparents on her father's side actually owned a vineyard, she couldn't stand the smell or taste of it. It was probably all those years spent drinking it when she was younger so that her grandparents could mold her into being a perfect little heiress for their wine company.

"How's your wine?" Ryan asked.

"Good," Callie lied with a smile and set the glass down. She was lying a lot, lately. And it _was _a good bottle; she knew that after all her experience with it. But that didn't make her like it any more. And Ryan knew how much she detested the stuff. She sat on her right hand so she didn't break the stem of the glass from her frustration.

"So," Ryan played with her left hand, the one not clenching the chair, his fingers grazing the ring there every so often, "I was thinkin' that ya could move in next weekend."

"Ryan, we've talked about this," Callie said hesitantly. "I don't want to move out until just before the wedding."

A dark shadow seemed to loom over Ryan's face. "I don't like ya livin' there with Potter."

_And there's a good reason for that_, Callie thought, remembering the encounter that had taken place only a couple of nights ago. She tried to banish thoughts of that night from her behind before her cheeks turned a vivid pink.

"I know you don't. But you aren't me, and so you have no control over it. I like living there, and I don't think it's such a great idea to leave James."

"I'm your fiancé, not him, Callie, o' have ya forgotten that?"

"Ryan, you're never home anyways. And when you are, I'd just be in the way every time I have to get up really early for Quidditch practice."

"Callie, we're goin' t'be married. We'll have t'learn t'work around each other's work schedules."

Callie tried not to squirm in her seat when he said the 'm' word. Instead, she tried to focus on the menu, but everything appeared to be in a different language.

"What kind of restaurant are we at?"

"French," Ryan replied. "It's the newest restaurant in Diagon Alley. It's supposed t'be excellent. And stop tryin' t'change the subject. Why aren't ya movin' in with me? We're goin' t'get married. We're goin' t'start a life together. We need t'be livin' together t'do that."

"I _know_, Ryan." Callie grit her teeth. What she wouldn't do to be sitting at the Potters' kitchen table with the rest of her adoptive family, right now. She'd even rather be sitting with her awkward, quiet, angry father even though she'd never really understood or gotten along with him. There was also the fact that he kind of hated her for her magic.

What did that say about how she felt about her fiancé? No, Callie reassured herself. She was just a little shaken up, still, about what he'd done earlier. He'd promised he wouldn't, but he'd grabbed her again. He'd been horribly apologetic. He'd felt absolutely awful. But he'd still done it.

Callie hadn't forgiven him so easily the second time. But she'd convinced herself to, in the end. After all, James's dad, Harry, was always preaching about forgiveness and second chances. If he could still forgive after all that he went through, why couldn't she?

"Callie, are you even listening to me?" Ryan's angry voice penetrated into her thoughts.

"I zoned out for a second," she said apologetically. "I've been a little out of it, lately. It's just that since there's no training right now, I'm not completely sure what to do with myself."

The rest of dinner went by just as tensely. They made snide, snappy comments at each other and when she dutifully argued for Ryan to let her pay the bill, he just pushed it towards her instead of laughing and taking the check anyways like he usually did. When Ryan brought her home, she didn't even ask for him to come in.

Instead, Ryan kissed her harshly, his nails digging into Callie's upper arms. He pushed her against the door forcefully before taking off down the stairs, out of the building, not looking back.

Callie hissed and let herself in, rubbing the streaks of blood on her arms away quickly, lest James see them.

Except he was standing in the entrance hall when she walked in.

James looked up at her when she came in. Callie could tell the second he noticed the scratches on her arm. His eyes became mournful and droopy. He just looked at her, before shaking his head and walking away.

Nothing Ryan had ever done had made her heart ache as much as James walking away did.

* * *

><p><strong>Review, please! More James &amp; Callie action coming up in the next few chapters...<strong>


	9. Chapter 9

**Here is why this story is rated M. Be warned, I've never written any kind of 'intimate' scene like this before, so I can't promise it's going to be fantastic. On that note, feedback would be greatly appreciated!**

* * *

><p><em>James looked up at her when she came in. Callie could tell the second he noticed the scratches on her arm. His eyes became mournful and droopy. He just looked at her, before shaking his head and walking away.<em>

_Nothing Ryan had ever done had made her heart ache as much as James walking away did._

"James," Callie begged.

He turned around, but slowly enough to show he was reluctant to talk to her. "What?" he sighed. "What could you possibly have to say?"

Callie shook her head.

James sighed and grabbed Callie's hand and pulled her into the kitchen. She hopped up on the counter next to the sink. James took a wet dishcloth and began to wipe away the blood on her shoulders and the tears on her cheeks. They didn't need words to communicate their immediate actions. It was Callie's earlier actions they needed to talk about.

"I'm sorry," Callie mumbled. "I hate feeling like I'm disappointing anyone, especially you."

James's head snapped up at her and he glared. "Don't say that, Cal. I can't stand the fact that you're feeling so upset all the time. I just want you to smile again. You used to always be smiling."

The cool, water-soaked dishcloth felt good against Callie's skin. Calming, rejuvenating, reassuring. It could've just been because James was the one brushing it over her arms, shoulders, collarbone, though, letting her skin tingle lightly in its wake.

Callie's head lolled back and rested against the cabinets. It felt peaceful here, with James. Just he and her, best friends, together. "I wish we could stay right here, forever."

James snorted. "I don't want to stay right here. I'm cleaning blood off of you. Your own blood, I might add."

"Fine," Callie amended. "I want to stay back when we were watching Titanic, how's that?"

James smiled to himself, careful not to look at his best friend's face as he continued to dab at her arms with the cloth, even though the blood was all gone. "You jump, I jump, Jack," he whispered.

"Hey, James," Callie asked hesitantly, "about what you said…" _the 'I love you' thing…_was what they both knew she was talking about, but neither voiced it.

James shook his head. "Forget it. I didn't say anything."

"James," Callie pleaded. "I…I want to say the same back. I do."

"But," James filled in for her, the frustrated, exasperated look already in place on his face. Callie hated that he gave her that look, now. That look never used to be directed towards her.

"I'm engaged. To Ryan."

James threw the dish towel into the sink with such force Callie jumped a little. He actually tore at his hair. "You're going to marry an abusive jerk, Callie! Don't do it! Why would you condemn yourself to a life of getting beat up by your husband?"

His eyes were wide and painfully red as they besieged her.

Callie felt beleaguered. By Ryan physically. By James, too, mentally. But James was doing it _for _her. Not _to_ her.

"I…I," Callie couldn't say it. She couldn't admit that she was _frightened _of Ryan. Frightened of her fiancé and what he might do to her if she said that she didn't love him. If she said that she loved James.

Callie shook her head. She couldn't let the tears fall. She wouldn't let James see another moment of weakness tumbling out of her.

She just wanted to smile again. To be happy again. That wasn't so much to ask, was it?

What had she done to get such an awful fiancé? What did she do to Ryan?

He hit her more than she let on. She'd convinced James's mom to show her some healing charms recently. She'd said it was because of all the bruises she was always getting at every practice. She'd told Ginny she didn't want to keep wincing every time she moved. Ginny had just laughed, said that she remembered those days, and told her the charms.

Callie used them a lot since James had found her that first time. Each time was worse than the last. Callie suspected she soon wouldn't be able to heal them. The cuts were becoming deeper, the bruises nasty yellow and green hues instead of purple and blue.

James pulled Callie off the counter top and set her on the ground. "Shh, it's alright," he whispered, lying through his teeth. One hand cupped her cheek while the other brushed her hair away from her face.

Callie stared up at him with big, wide eyes, rimmed in red from holding her tears in. "I hate this," Callie sobbed. "I hate feeling like I have no control. I hate feeling like _he's_ controlling me, my life."

"He's not," James said roughly. He pulled her into his arms and held her tight. In the back of her mind, Callie appreciated how he could hold her tightly with love and friendship, rather than malice and possessiveness, like Ryan did. "You are in control, Callie. You can fix it. You can get out of this. Just break up with Ryan. Cut if off with him."

Callie's head sunk onto James's shoulder. "I don't think I can." Her voice was pitiful to her own ears. "I…"

"Did he threaten you?" James's voice was painfully tense and controlled. Callie knew he was attempting to keep a hold on his anger.

Callie shook her head against James's shoulder. "N-not really."

"But you're afraid of him anyways?"

Callie didn't have to nod. From the tone of his voice, Callie could tell that James already knew he was right.

"Callie, no matter what, I'm always going to be here for you," James said, low into her ear. "You jump, I jump, Jack. I mean it, every time I say it."

A strangled sob released from Callie's throat.

She glanced up at him. His was face so serious.

One of Callie's hands, almost of its own accord, it seemed, reached up and traced the edge of his cheek, down the curve of his jaw. Her fingers delicately felt the plumpness of his lips.

Then she stood on tip toes so her lips could feel his.

James was stiff as a board, at first. Too surprised to do anything.

But then he felt Callie's lips, so soft, moving against his own. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer.

He deepened the kiss and Callie's head lolled back with pleasure.

Why did they keep doing this? he wondered. She was obviously terrified of what Ryan might do to her if she broke up with him, but she continued to cheat on him. This was the second time in less than a week that she had kissed him. _She _had initiated both instances, not he.

But she tasted of citrus and smelled of oranges and soap; the same thing he'd had a whiff of every instance he'd smelled amortentia.

Somehow he picked her up and carried her to his room, laid her down gently on his bed.

Callie stripped his shirt off, up over his head. James nuzzled into her shoulder, pressing butterfly kisses all along her collarbone. He sucked on the skin, nibbling lightly.

Callie squealed at the friction from James's stubble but when he lifted his face away she smirked and pulled it back down.

James gently unzipped Callie's dress, the tight black one she'd worn on her date with Ryan. The amount of times he'd fantasized about taking her out of this dress were innumerable, and here he was, doing exactly that.

He gasped when he realized what she was wearing under it. Or, more accurately, wasn't wearing. No bra.

His eyes strayed to hers and he saw something there he hadn't seen in awhile: mischief. Her eyes betrayed who she used to be. His best friend who he played pranks with, laughed with, joked with, teased, confided in. Just seeing that glimmer there, in her eyes, made him want to kill Ryan with his bare hands and keep him away from Callie, forever. James never wanted to give Ryan the chance to diminish that glimmer ever again.

James lowered his head and kissed each of Callie's nipples; he sucked hard. She arched against him and moaned his name.

That one word, falling from her pink lips, caused James so much mental torment he knew there must be a room in St. Mungo's with his name on it. He shouldn't need anyone this much; he shouldn't want anyone this much. That one word, his name from her lips, meant that he wasn't going to be able to stop this time.

James sucked and nibbled, paying each breast equal attention, then moving down, placing hot, open-mouth kisses down her stomach, closer and closer to where she was desperately craving him. Callie's moans, whimpers, and sighs egged him on, more and more, fiercer and faster.

She reached for him but he grabbed her wrists and held them above her head, effectively trapping them. She smirked up at him and began to protest, but couldn't do much more once James began sucking, nipping, tracing again. He just wanted to make her feel good; to forget the bruises dotting her body. He was going to make sure that all she felt was pleasure, and that she didn't have work for it.

It was going so fast but too slow for James's liking all the same. He couldn't stop this, but he could barely feel one touch, one fleeting emotion, before another came tumbling after it

Soon they were left only in boxers and knickers. And then nothing.

James slipped his fingers inside of her first, twiddling away a tune on an invisible piano, coaxing breathy moans and whimpers, those that made his insides curl up, from Callie.

Then he slid inside her. She felt like heaven. She matched his rhythm thrust for thrust. Her wrists slipped from his grip above her head and her nails slid down his back, most definitely leaving scratches. The good kind.

Callie arched and gave a breathy moan, James's name tumbling from her mouth, clenching around him and falling back to the bed. No screams but her mouth hung gently open and her eyes were closed in ecstasy. James followed Callie over the edge soon after.

They lay on the bed in a heap, chests rising and falling with every breath.

The enormity of what they had just done hit them simultaneously.

James craned his head and looked at Callie. His wide-eyed appearance was reflected back at him.

He rolled off her and stared up at the ceiling.

The one thing he'd wanted to do since he was fourteen, he'd just done. And now he felt more guilt for it than he'd ever thought was possible.

"Callie, I…"

"Shut up, James. I know what you're going to say. Don't you dare apologize." Callie shook her head and lifted herself up, staring directly at James, still lying down on the bed. "I don't regret it. Maybe it wasn't the greatest idea under the circumstances, but oh well."

James reached up and touched an already-forming hickey on her neck from where he'd sucked at it. There were three more of those marks trailing down from her collar bone to her left breast. "And how are you going to explain these to Ryan?"

"I'll just say he did it."

James's eyebrows shot up to the sky in disbelief. "You're going to stay with him? Maybe _you _missed what just happened, but we just _shagged_, Sunny. You cheated on your asswad of a fiancé." _Really _cheated on him. James nearly wanted to scream at her. He'd felt so close, so close, to getting everything, to having his wildest dreams come true. And then they came crashing down around him, a scarred heap at his feet.

"And imagine what will happen if he finds out," she hissed at him. "Yes, James, I admit I'm scared of him. I'm frightened out of my wits about what he might do. But I'm much more afraid of what he'll do to _you _if he finds out."

James scoffed. "I can take care about myself. What I want is for you to let me _help._"

Callie shook her head again. "My fight, James, not yours." She reached over and caressed his cheek. "But thank you," she whispered.

James felt like he was being scolded. He felt like an immature six-year-old, out to save the world, one person at a time. Didn't people believe that good triumphed over evil anymore? Didn't Callie believe he could help her, save her?

"Callie…"

She turned away and pulled James's shirt on. Was it so wrong of James to feel like she looked so much better in his shirt, than in that gorgeous black dress? Was it wrong to feel so happy about that little mark on her neck, marking her as his?

But she wasn't his, she was Ryan's. And she'd skin him alive if she knew he was thinking of her as being anyone's at all.

"I'm going to do something, James, don't worry," Callie said. "I don't love Ryan, I'm just afraid of what he might do. I know that, and I know how absolutely pathetic I feel about it. I'm _going _to get out."

James sighed in relief. She was still speaking just as candidly as ever; they didn't have pretenses between each other. Maybe it'd be alright. Maybe he and Callie would get to share a happily ever after with each other, one day.

* * *

><p><strong>Review, please!<strong>


	10. Chapter 10

James stormed into his childhood home.

"Dad!" he called.

Harry appeared at the entrance to the kitchen.

James leaned against the doorframe and ran a hand through his hair. He didn't notice his father carefully observing his stressed appearance.

"Yeah?"

James's head snapped up when he heard his dad's voice. "Can I talk to you?" he asked urgently.

Harry nodded and led his oldest son into his office. For some reason, it was where every serious conversation he'd ever had with James had taken place: 'the talk', when he'd been suspended from Hogwarts (with Callie) for setting a group of kids' beds on fire – even though they'd been spreading hurtful rumors about his cousin Lucy, moving out, his career after Hogwarts, the talk Harry had attempted to have with James after he'd quit being an auror (and gotten nowhere), and all the others, too.

"What's up?" Harry asked, surveying James from behind his glasses.

James ran his hand through his hair again and sank into the chair across from his dad.

"Say, hypothetically…" James began, knowing with one quick glance at his father that Harry knew nothing was hypothetical (the raise of the left eyebrow, quirked upwards, such a McGonagall look). James should really learn a different way to start these things off. He'd used that one too many times. "That someone cheated on their fiancé, er, boyfriend, _or_ girlfriend. Whichever."

Harry refrained from rolling his eyes, with great hardship, though.

"But that said significant other was a selfish, abusive, jerk," James's voice grew furious and his hands curled into fists. "And he was hurting that person. Does it really matter? And what if the person they cheated on loved her? Or him," he hastened to add. "But the bastard deserved it. Still deserves it," James snarled at something unseen.

"James," Harry leaned forward. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I did something kind of stupid." James sighed and his head slumped forward to rest in his hands. "I slept with Callie," he mumbled.

Harry felt a little uncomfortable. He shifted in his seat. He didn't particularly want to be discussing his son's sex life. Though he and James had pretty much always been honest with each other, they weren't _that _honest. Not _overly_ honest. Actually, Harry thought, they hadn't had to have any conversation centered around sex since he'd gotten that letter about James being found in a broom closet after hours with someone named Hannah. That had been an awkward talk…

Suddenly, Harry remembered something pretty important. Callie's fiancé. "Ryan…"

James shook his head. "He deserves it."

_Selfish, abusive, jerk _echoed in Harry's head. "He hurts her, doesn't he?"

James glared at his dad.

"Fine, you can't say," Harry nodded. His insides were coiled as tightly as James's right then. Callie was like another daughter to him. Anyone hurting her was…Harry didn't think he could put a name to it.

"I don't know the extent of what goes on," James said tightly. His teeth clenched together as he realized just how much about the situation he didn't know.

He'd only seen what had happened a few times, and Ginny had taught him those healing charms after she mentioned that Callie had come to her to learn them. "Might as well teach you, too. I still can't understand why you don't know them in the first place," she'd said.

"She's scared, though, isn't she?" Harry asked.

"She's come home with bruises and cuts a couple of times, but she knows healing charms, so when I do see them they're probably already healed a lot. I don't know what he says to her, though." James paused. "She's too frightened to do anything about it." James hung his head. "She's never scared, of anything. Ever."

* * *

><p>"James! Hurry up, we're gonna be late!" Callie called.<p>

"Have you seen my wallet?" James said, searching frantically through the couch cushions. Callie appeared behind the couch and tossed it to him. "You left it behind the microwave again."

"Oh, right," James said, stuffing it in the front pocket of his jeans. He shrugged on a shirt and glanced at Callie. "Ready to go?"

She rolled her eyes. She'd been asking him that for twenty minutes.

"The team is going to be waiting for us," James reminded her. They were meeting the rest of their team, Puddlemere United, at the 'hottest bar in Diagon Alley' according to the Daily Prophet, Witch Weekly, and the Broomstick & Cauldron.

They finally apparated to the outside of the bar. Callie stumbled in her heels and James caught her elbow. They glanced at each other and Callie giggled nervously. They'd been a bit awkward around each other since the other night. Whenever James looked at Callie, he remembered her without her clothing, lying beneath him and arching in pleasure. It created a number of awkward instances.

"You alright?" Callie asked.

James shook his head free of the dirty images in his mind before muttering, "Yeah," and leading the way into the bar.

They found their team in the far back corner at a circular booth. Callie's fellow chasers, Keegan and Ken, were seated in the very back, punching each other and laughing uproariously about something. James's fellow beater, tiny little Meggie, was sipping her glass of water (a lightweight and a mother, she was supposed to be 'responsible', at least according to herself) while talking quietly with seeker Luke and keeper Drew.

"Hey kiddies," Callie said, slipping in beside Keegan, leaving James to follow behind her.

"Hey you two!" Meggie cried, setting her water down and reaching over the table and grabbing James and Callie in her arms, knocking over a number of glasses on the table.

Callie chuckled. "Hey Meggie."

"Season's starting soon," Keegan said, flexing his fingers and leaning his arms back over the top of the booth. He grinned to his side at Callie and let his arm drop lower and lower, until his hand was practically on top of her breast. James's fingers dug into the table to keep himself from grabbing Keegan around the throat.

Callie smirked and moved Keegan's arm back over. "I'm engaged now, remember?"

He rolled his eyes.

"We do our best to forget that," Ken interjected. He held his hands over his heart, a wounded look on his face. "If we don't, then we are perpetually heartbroken."

"I'm disappointed in all of you," Drew put in. "Including myself," he added. "We are all fantastically fit, young, attractive, famous Quidditch players at a crowded, hot bar and we are sitting down. And not even that drunk."

Luke stood up. "Oh, Drew, my dearest lover, would you care to dance?"

Drew fake-swooned. "Oh, my dearest Luke, I thought you'd never ask."

Meggie giggled as they waltzed away into the middle of the dance floor, "My sister is going to love this one." Drew was currently dating her younger sister, Jillian, but they were in an open relationship and the two were pretty insane on their own, never mind together. Luke was just a jokester.

"C'mon, Callie, dance with us," Keegan pouted. Ken pouted along with him.

"I don't think Ryan would like that too much," she reminded them, smiling.

That was the understatement of the year, James thought.

"Besides," she added, "then who would keep Meggie company?"

"How about I keep my wife company?" Meggie's husband, Josh, arrived just then, kissing her lightly on the lips before sliding into the booth next to her.

"Fine," Ken said. "But if you two haven't moved from this table in five minutes," he pointed to James and Callie with fiercely narrowed eyes, "then Keegan and I are coming back here to drag you out there."

James watched as the two burly chasers each plucked a skinny, pretty girl out of the crowd and began to dance with her.

"Oi, you two," Meggie pointed her finger at the two of them, using her 'mom' voice, "get out of here. Go dance."

Meggie laughed as the two of the simultaneously reached for Ken's and Keegan's abandoned drinks and downed them.

"I'm sure Ryan wouldn't care if you danced with James," she said to Callie.

"I would be so sure about that," James muttered under his breath.

Callie pinched him under the table.

"It's not like dancing is as bad as other things we've done," he whispered in her ear.

Somehow they ended up on the dance floor. But James made sure they were in a dark spot in the furthest corner from the entrance.

James had his arm wrapped around Callie's waist, pressing her close to him. Their hips moved together in time with the beat.

"I like being this close to you," Callie whispered in James's ear. Her voice sent shivers down James's spine.

"You shouldn't say things like that," James warned her.

"He's not here, is he? And I feel free, impulsive." There was a devilish glint in Callie's eye, one which generally accompanied being intoxicated for her, and James knew how the night was going to go before probably even Callie did.

She began to dance closer, their hips grinding against each other, breaths mingling. Callie flung her head back, hair tossed in the air, and letting James twirl her as she shimmied around him.

He tried not to. He really did. But she was so provocative. She was enticing him. She'd worn that tiny black skirt, those killer heels, and that sparkly orange shirt. Her tan glowed and her blonde hair was luminescent in the lighting.

And all of a sudden, she was the party girl she used to be. James saw the change in her eyes. They sparkled as she got lost in the music.

James grabbed Callie's hand and pulled lightly, sending her colliding into him. She giggled. "I wonder what it was we drank from Keegan's and Ken's glasses."

Callie draped one arm around James neck as he shifted his thigh between her legs. She was short enough, even in the heels, that his thigh was right at her center. He moved his leg back and forth, slowly at first, then faster as he heard the gasps coming from Callie, before withdrawing his leg completely. He smirked at her as she frowned.

She stole two shots of tequila from a passing bartender's tray and downed one quickly, James taking the other.

"We're setting ourselves up for a disaster," Callie laughed.

"I know," James grinned, before swinging Callie around and grinding into her backside.

He knew she could feel him against her, otherwise she wouldn't have pushed back harder than she'd been pushing him before. She leaned her head back on his shoulder and tilted her mouth upwards to his ear. "Let's get out of here before there are pictures in the Prophet tomorrow, or before anyone on the team notices."

James nodded and whisked her away into the little crevice by the bathrooms no one went in.

No words were exchanged as he pulled her into the empty women's bathroom – cleaner than the men's – and they began stripping off each other's clothes. Callie unzipped his jeans and placed her hand inside, pressing lightly against the throbbing part of his anatomy. James bit back a groan.

He turned Callie around and bent her over the sink. He looked in the mirror, catching his eyes with hers, for permission. She nodded.

James slid her underwear down her legs, smirking in the mirror at Callie upon seeing them – bright red and lacy.

Her fingers had already coaxed him to an upright stance; his fingers began to massage her, becoming coated in her wetness. He found her clit and began circling it lightly, the slightest pressure and then harder, backing off, and then more pressure. It was a dance that had Callie gripping the edges of the sink, whimpers leaving her mouth.

James shoved his jeans down out of the way before swiping Callie's folds and sliding himself into her. He relished in the feeling for a moment, a moment of silence, stillness, before he thrust.

Callie gasped as her hips hit the porcelain sink as he thrust, a moan following.

James fingers found her clit again and circled, his nail lightly scratching it. Callie let out a scream and came, clenching around James.

James pounded into her once, twice more, Callie arched to accommodate him, and then he exploded inside of her.

They both collapsed: Callie on the sink and James on Callie's back, still inside of her.

Oh, God, they'd done it again.

James disentangled himself from his best friend, pulling up his boxers and zipping up his jeans. He tossed Callie her underwear – if it could even be called that – and she cast the charms cleaning them both up. _What a romantic ending, _James thought.

They slid down on the floor beside each other.

"We've got to stop this," James muttered finally, running a hand through his hair.

Callie snorted. "Why? You obviously enjoy it."

"Why don't you care more?" James burst, outraged. "What if Ryan finds out, huh? Did you ever think about what he might do to you?"

Callie's eyes narrowed. "Ever think that maybe I need this because of what he _does _do to me?"

James's eyes widened. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Callie shook her head. "Never mind. I already said too much." She stood up, fluffed her hair, redid her lipstick in the mirror, and walked out of the bathroom back into the club, leaving James on the floor.

When James finally made it back into the club, Callie was nowhere to be found.

* * *

><p><strong>Review, please!<strong>


	11. Chapter 11

James opened the door to the flat on the second knock. "Oh, hey guys," he smiled, letting his younger sister and Rose, who was holding a carrier with baby Mia in it, inside. "How are you?"

"We're good," Rose shrugged. She moved over to the couch and flopped down, propping her feet up on the coffee table and rocking the carrier with Mia in it on the ground next to the couch while Lily went straight to the fridge, coming back with two firewhiskeys and one glass of water.

"You're not allowed to have that," James said to Lily as he took one of the bottles of firewhiskey as Lily handed the glass of water to Rose.

She stuck her tongue out at him. "You're not going to tell Mum or Dad, are you?"

"I might," he sneered and propped himself down next to Rose. "Why can't you be more like Rose here?"

Lily snorted and sat in the chair. "Yes, I'll get drunk, sleep with my best friend, and get pregnant at seventeen. You sure you wouldn't rather I just have one single bottle of booze? In the safety and comfort of my overprotective brother's flat?"

James rolled his eyes. "Fine. What are you doing here anyways?"

"I _had_ to get out of my house," Rose said. "My parents are there with the Malfoys, arguing over where to have the wedding. Scorpius and I both decided we wanted nothing to do with it; we wanted to elope, actually. But Astoria and my mum would've murdered us, so now they're planning it. The only condition we had was that they not go overboard.

"But lucky Scorpius is at Auror-training and so he didn't have to be there," Rose scowled as if her fiancé were actually in the room, probably mostly upset that she couldn't have any of the firewhiskey while she was breastfeeding Mia. "And Al's training for Quidditch because the season starts up soon so I'm with Lily here. And we decided to come over here to say hi."

"So I'm the last pick, huh?"

"Well, we would've rather hung out with Callie, but she's with Ryan," Lily joked.

James grimaced but said nothing. "I bet Al's hungover, not training," he said instead. "The whole Puddlemere United team went out last night. I think the reserves and new recruits went to some bar in Muggle London. The first stringers went out in Diagon Alley."

Rose and Lily exchanged a smirk. "We know," Lily said. She pulled a newspaper out of her bag and slapped it on the coffee table in front of her brother.

On the front of the sports page under the headline "Puddlemere Goes Wild" was a large picture of the entire first-string part of the team at the bar, dancing and obviously crazily drunk. Thankfully, Callie and James were in the back, mostly hidden by Keegan, Ken, and Luke in the front, obviously trying to get the photographer or reporter to dance with them. Meggie and Josh were looking on, laughing at Meggie's teammates with Drew.

"Ah well, nothing real incriminating there," James said, tossing the paper back to Lily.

"Has Callie said anything more about moving to California?" asked Lily.

James shook his head and took another swig of firewhiskey. He really shouldn't be drinking after such an awful hangover from the night before. But it eased some of the guilt that he'd woken up with his arm draped around Callie in his bed earlier in the morning. No matter how awful Ryan was and how much he deserved it, James still felt guilty for aiding Callie to cheat on anyone.

"How are you and Scorpius doing?" Lily shifted her attention to Rose.

James squirmed in his seat. If this visit was going to turn into a discussion about who was with whom, he wasn't sure he could stand it. He needed to call up Fred and Louis. He hadn't seen those two in forever. The three of them and Callie hadn't spent much time together recently. Ever since Ryan, really; that was when Callie had begun canceling a lot when they all planned to hang out.

"We're good," a shy smile graced Rose's face.

"Aw," Lily cooed. "I'm _so_ jealous. I want a perfect guy! You have Scorpius, James has Callie, Victoire has Teddy. I want someone!"

"I don't have Callie, Lily," James said. "She's engaged to someone else. Ryan Finnigan, remember him?"

Lily waved her hand in the air as if waving away that tidbit of information.

"James, do you want to hold Mia?" Rose interjected, eager to avoid a fight.

"Sure," James nodded. He reached over for his cousin's daughter and cradled her in his arms. Mia gurgled and her pudgy hands reached up at James. He laughed.

"You're lucky," Rose said. "She's usually much more active. It's getting near time for me to feed her, and for her nap, so she's starting to slow down some."

James nodded, enraptured by the little girl. She cuddled up against his chest and let out a tiny yawn. James grinned involuntarily.

"She just captured your heart, didn't she?" Rose smirked.

"Who captured whose heart?" Callie walked in the flat, closing the door behind her and kicking off her flip-flops. She splayed herself across the other chair in the living room after swiping the firewhiskey out of Lily's hand and giving her a disapproving look.

Lily pouted, thinking it was ridiculously hypocritical of Callie not to allow her to drink, before answering. "James wants a little baby girl," she teased.

"I do not!"

Callie giggled. "It looks like you do, the way you're gazing at Mia, there."

James glanced up at Callie. Her hair was sun-kissed and windswept, her skin tan from the hot summer days, her slouchy tank top was dressed up with a long necklace but James's favorite part of her outfit just then were her 'daisy dukes' as Callie had once referred to them: her teensy weensy jean shorts, barely covering her ass and showing off a whole hell of a lot of long, gorgeous leg draped over the arm of the chair.

"Stop drooling, James, it's unbecoming," Lily chided him.

James shifted Mia so he could flip off his baby sister. "I don't remember inviting you in, Lily."

But Lily wasn't listening. She was gazing at the marks on Callie's shoulder. "Callie…" she said slowly, "what are those marks on your arm?"

Callie's head whipped down to look at her upper arm. James tensed, something Mia noticed and she began to wail.

Rose took Mia back, rocking her and shushing her. She unbuttoned her shirt (Scorpius's shirt, James noticed – blue, collared, button-down) and Mia began to suckle at her breast. James moved his head back to the scene unfolding between Lily and Callie to avoid seeing any naked part of his cousin.

Callie laughed and rubbed her hand over her arm. "Well, don't tell Ryan I said this, but…"

Lily leaned in, thinking she was about to be privy to some romantic detail whereas James knew it was going to be a wonderfully fabricated lie, most likely a fake fetish of Ryan's.

"…he kind of gives me lots of hickeys," Callie continued. "_Everywhere_."

Lily glanced over Callie quickly and saw copious amounts of purple marks, not noticing that only some of them were shaped like lips. And those were the ones James had made.

James's fists coiled. He hated seeing his marks on her mixed with those of someone else's. Especially because they weren't love bites; they were residue of Ryan's abuse. He couldn't believe Callie continued to stay with Ryan. But she was too afraid not to continue the relationship.

They talked for awhile, until Lily looked at her watch and realized she was supposed to be at George's shop in twelve minutes to help out and Rose was supposed to meet Scorpius in half an hour. They left as quickly as they'd come, giving hugs and kisses before disapparating, leaving James and Callie alone.

James shifted awkwardly.

Callie coughed.

"Keegan wanted me to remind you that we're all going out again tonight," Callie said. "He thought you'd forget." Callie smirked wryly. Of course James would forget.

"Right," James responded. "Wanna leave here about nine?"

"Actually, I'm not going out with you guys tonight," Callie said. She moved around the room, picking up old newspapers and discarded magazines, tossing them into the recycling bin by the door. "My dad's in town for the night. I'm headed out to dinner with him."

"Oh." James knew exactly what that meant for her. An awkward dinner, stilted conversation, passive aggression directed towards her, and then she'd get so fed up with it all she'd leave dinner in the middle, head to a bar, and drown her sorrows in some sort of booze. Most likely multiple sorts of booze. In one glass. Which would be refilled over and over again.

"Want me to come?" he offered.

Callie snorted. "That would probably go over even worse, but thanks anyways." Callie's dad had never liked James much.

"Call me when you're at the bar part, anyways."

They laughed. "Yeah, I will."

* * *

><p>Callie shimmied the sparkly yellow mini-dress over her head and flipped her hair, shaking it out and tousling it up. She felt guilty, lying to James, but there was no other way he would have let her out of the flat if he'd known where she was going.<p>

She slipped on her strappy heels and grabbed her clutch, exiting the flat. James was going to be so pissed when he figured it out. But then again, if Ryan ever figured out anything about what had happened between she and James, she'd be dead herself.

* * *

><p>"There you are, babe," Ryan jumped up out of his seat to kiss her lightly before pulling her chair out for her.<p>

"Hey, Ryan," Callie smiled. She felt like a teenager sneaking out of the house to go on a date.

They were in a table in the back corner of the restaurant-club-bar (Callie wasn't sure which). It was dark enough that it was hard to see each other across the table but the lights on the dance floor in the center of the room were flashing and bright.

They chatted as they ate, mostly about meaningless things: the weather, whether or not Celestina Warbeck was ever going to retire. It felt pleasantly normal, like one of their earlier dates. Callie almost deluded herself into thinking that Ryan had never hurt her.

"We're going to have to set a date soon," Ryan said. "My mam is getting' anxious. And we need to start lookin' at houses in California. My dad has a hotel there, so I have a job already laid out for me, but you're going to have to apply to that team up in Napa."

Callie laughed. "We do, don't we?" She felt a squirm in her stomach that had nothing to do with the pasta she'd just eaten. "Can we worry about that after Quidditch season? I don't want anything to get in the way of our wedding. I don't want to be distracted during any part of it. That way it'll turn out perfect." She reached across the table and grabbed Ryan's hand, looking directly into his eyes, letting her own twinkle.

She felt sick to her stomach. So much lying, manipulating. She felt like a sociopath. Maybe she was one. With James, this never happened. They were truthful, easy with each other.

Callie slid her foot sensually up the side of Ryan's leg. "Let's go dance."

"Sure."

Ryan pulled her up and onto the dance floor.

Callie was reminded too much of the night before, dancing with James. This felt mechanical; that had felt sensual, erotic, fantastic.

Eventually they landed in Ryan's flat, snogging on his couch.

"Ryan," Callie said in between kisses, "Ryan, let's stop."

Ryan pulled back abruptly. "What?"

Callie sighed. "I'm just, not up to it tonight."

Ryan's eyes narrowed. "You're not up to spending time with your future husband?" he said incredulously. "Do you even _want _to marry me?"

_No_, Callie thought. Knowing that it was about to take a turn for the worst, she started to placate him, "Of course, I'm just-"

"You're spending all your time with Potter," he spat, interrupting her. "I think you like him. I bet you're in love with him," Ryan sneered. He grabbed her arm roughly and tossed her back against the couch.

Callie's head hit the arm rest and she cried out in pain.

"Don't pretend it hurt," Ryan growled. "Whores don't feel pain."

He straddled on top of her, letting his knees dig into her sides.

"Please stop, Ryan, you're not yourself," Callie said. "Ouch, that _hurts_, Ryan," she said as he dug his nails into her thighs, scraping down her legs.

Ryan grinned. It was a malicious grin, a scary grin, one that reminded Callie of the Cheshire cat.

He grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the height of her shoulders against the cushions of the couch. There was fire in his eyes. "Men follow you with their eyes in the streets, they watch your every move, they stared at you in the bar tonight. You flirted back," he accused.

"No!" Callie shouted. She struggled beneath Ryan but he gripped her wrists tighter. "I didn't. It's all in your head."

"Oh so I'm crazy now, am I?" Ryan laughed deliriously. He certainly sounded mad at that moment. He let his weight press down on Callie.

Callie was finding it difficult to breathe. She bucked underneath him, but the only response she got was an erection from her fiancé. She stilled. This was turning him on. The dominance, the power, being in control of a situation. Being in control of _her_.

"Ryan, please, I love _you_," Callie said. The words tasted bitter on her tongue, like vinegar. "You know that. Why wouldn't I? You're a wonderful man. Please, calm down. We were having such a good night."

Callie could mentally kick herself. She was just feeding this relationship. She was an enabler. She wasn't doing anything to stop what was happening. But it felt like the only safe way. If she didn't, then she'd get hurt, other people would get hurt, and it would all be a disaster. She had to. It was a survival of the fittest and she needed to survive. Fight or flight, and this was a flight.

James was a fighter, though. Callie remembered once upon a time when she'd been a fighter as well.

"You're right," Ryan said, breaking through Callie's thoughts, "I'm sorry." He slid slowly off her and sat next to her pulling her into his lap, and kissing her neck.

Lying on her back in his bed as Ryan entered into her, Callie was thinking how much of a waste it had been to wear her gorgeous, new, sparkly, yellow, no-backed dress tonight. She should've worn it last night. For James.


	12. Chapter 12

"Monaghan, get down here!"

Callie rolled her eyes and landed on the pitch in front of her coach, Brian O'Kelly. She was used to being yelled at by him. He picked on the women on the team, but now that Meggie was married, she was harassed less by him. They all just laughed it off, knowing O'Kelly was completely harmless and loved them all like his own flesh and blood. But the shouting did tend to hurt her eardrums.

"Yeah?" she asked, leaning on her broom. She'd been in the middle of racing Keegan around the pitch while Ken practiced with Drew, the keeper. Meggie and James were hitting a bludger back and forth as Luke let the snitch out and then chased after it. She hated being interrupted in the middle of a race with Keegan – they had a running tally on who won each of them.

"Straighten up when you talk to me," O'Kelly ordered.

Callie slowly maneuvered her way into a position where her spine was straight, a smirk growing on her face as she moved at a snail's pace, slower than cold molasses.

O'Kelly bristled but refrained from commenting. He'd learned that when he commented, her's and James's pranks and actions became worse. "Now, I understand you are engaged to a Ryan Finnigan." He paused while Callie nodded her confirmation. "His brother, Liam Finnigan, has just become the team's trainer. I figured it would be most comfortable if you were to be checked out by him first, rather than anyone else, since you are already acquainted with him."

Callie squirmed. Of course it wouldn't occur to O'Kelly that that would actually be _more _awkward because she _did_ know him. But the look on his face left no leeway for argument, so Callie tossed her broom to the side and made her way into the locker rooms.

The locker rooms were very open, except for the door at the back, leading to the training room, the offices, and the conference rooms. The shower stalls were open – no curtains – and the actual lockers were attached the walls. Benches sat in the middle, currently covered in all of the players' gear. They were all very open with each other, the players, that is. They changed in front of each other and they'd all seen each other without clothes at just about every practice and game. When Puddlemere had first started out, they hadn't been able to afford anything else. Not to mention, all the players had been men. Now, the higher-ups refused to spend money on the lockerrooms, preferring to spend it on the stands, posts at the ends of the pitch, and other things that really didn't need to be replaced.

Callie still marveled at the fact that Meggie's husband Josh didn't go crazy with jealousy because of it. Thankfully, she'd 'forgotten' to mention this fact to Ryan when she'd taken him on a tour of the stadium, saying she'd only shown him the women's locker room.

Callie opened the door to the hallway where all the offices and other rooms were off of, taking the first left into the training room.

"Hello, Liam," she remarked upon entering, seeing her soon to be brother-in-law standing hunched over a folder propped up on the examination/massage table.

His head flipped and he grinned upon seeing who it was. "Callie Monaghan, how are ya?" He walked over and gave her a bear hug, picking her up and swinging her around. "I haven't seen ya in way too long. But I guess you'll be around quite a lot more in the future," he added with a twinkle in his eye.

"I guess I will."

"Now, what can I do for ya?"

"Coach sent me in here for the first check-up."

"Ah," Liam nodded. "Well, hop up here n' we'll get started."

Callie pulled off her outer clothes, leaving herself in her shorts and sports bra.

"Ryan would kill me right now," Liam chuckled. "You're a little too naked for him t'want me t'see ya."

Callie rolled her eyes. "In California, people wear even less than this on a regular day. In the summers in between years at Hogwarts, I'd wear daisy dukes and a bikini top."

Liam coaxed her to lie back on the table. "What are daisy dukes?"

"Really tiny jean shorts. They barely cover your ass at all."

"I knew I should've moved to America," Liam joked. He prodded his fingers up Callie's arms, frowning when she hissed in pain. "Did I hurt you?"

Callie shook her head. "No, of course not."

Liam gave Callie a dry look. "I know ya don't want t'report t'me that you're injured because then ya can't play, but I really do need t'know, Cal."

"I'm fine," Callie ground out.

"Fine," Liam shrugged and moved over to Callie's other arm. Callie hissed when he came to the same spot. Her wrists. From where Ryan had grabbed them the other night.

Liam continued checking her legs and back, then stomach. He looked at her neck and laughed. "Jesus, my brother leaves a lot o' love bites on ya, doesn't he? Bit territorial, if ya ask me. Other than that, you're looking gorgeous as usual," he winked at her.

_They're not his marks, _Callie thought. But she agreed with Liam's statement about Ryan being territorial all right.

"Alright. Time for the awkward part," Liam grimaced.

"Must you? I mean, we girls have doctors for that. And I highly doubt your brother is going to want you looking at me like that."

"I won't be lookin' at ya like _that_," he gave her a grin that suggested otherwise and Callie fought the urge to laugh. Liam was practically a comedian, always making everyone laugh, a lot like James in that sense. He had such a rakish sense of humor. "I need t'make sure you're healthy _everywhere_. Coach's orders. If I don't, ya can't play. Believe me, not exactly like I want to be doin' this. Don't think my wife would like it too much, either."

Callie grumbled, "How about you don't and say you did?" but pulled her sports bra over her head, letting Liam prod and check her breasts over as well. What she wouldn't give for James to be doing this examination. Not exactly the thought Liam would want her to have, considering he was her fiancé's brother. It felt traitorous.

"Shirt back on."

Callie scrambled back into her clothing, all set to exit before Liam stopped her, hand on the door. "You're forgetting something."

Callie groaned and hopped back on the table, starting to undo her shorts. "Meggie's husband is _so _going to give O'Kelly hell for this."

* * *

><p>James barreled into the flat, dumping his duffel down and heading straight into the bathroom.<p>

"Ahhh!" Callie screamed as James crashed into the bathroom, walking straight into her undressing for a shower.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry!" he said, backing out of them room.

Though they both showered at the pitch, they liked to shower again at the flat. It just felt cleaner.

"It's fine," Callie said. "It's not like I'm naked." She gestured to her underwear still on.

"I like it better when you are," James smirked.

"You're more than welcome to get me naked," Callie said. "But I want my shower first."

"How about we share one?"

Callie stopped in the process of removing her shirt. She noticed she seemed to be taking her clothes off in front of people a lot today.

He posed an interesting prospect.

Callie turned and looked at James instead of continuing to look at him in the mirror. "I thought you wanted to stop this."

James stepped forward, closer and closer to Callie. Suddenly, the temperature in the room had risen twenty degrees, then tension thicker than any humidity could possibly be.

Soon he was only inches away. "I honestly don't know if I can help myself," he said. "From touching you," his fingers traced her collarbone, "from kissing you," he placed his lips where his hand had just been. He placed light butterfly kisses all across her collarbone, his tongue darting out and soothing over the skin briefly before he cupped the back of her neck and kissed her on the lips.

Why? Why did Callie get this warm, burning, absolutely turned-on in-love feeling with James and not with her fiancé? And why was she so scared to break up with Ryan? He'd hurt her, sure. But after that, wouldn't he be gone?

But all of these thoughts were ripped from her mind as James broke the kiss and pulled her bra over her head, turning his attention to her breasts.

They stripped each other devoid of any clothing and tumbled into the shower. Up against the wall, then lying on the bottom of the tub. They continued until the hot water ran out, shampooing and soaping each other up in between kisses.

But Callie wondered if she could even call it just fucking anymore. With each time, it felt more and more like James was making love to her. Really, making love _with_ her. Because she couldn't deny it anymore: she was in love with her best friend, with James Sirius Potter, and she absolutely one-hundred percent, needed to get away from Ryan.

* * *

><p>"James?" Callie whispered. She trudged into his room, tip-toeing up next to his bed. It was two-thirty in the morning, but she couldn't let this go. She needed to ask him.<p>

Callie prodded James's shoulder. "James, wake up."

James mumbled incoherently. His arm shot out and grabbed Callie around the neck, pulling her down on top of him.

"Oof," Callie's breath left her lungs in a whoosh. She took in a gulp of air and relaxed before poking James in the stomach. His eyes opened and his arm relaxed.

"Callie? What're you doing in here?"

Callie bit down on her lower lip. "I just…why?" She probably should've started out a bit more delicately, but it was too late for that now.

"Why what?" James sat up, confused.

Callie tried not to let her heart wrench at how cute he looked. His hair was mussed and he was blinking sleepily up at her.

She made herself comfortable on his bed, crossed her legs Indian-style and stared at him. "Why do we keep," Callie's hands gestured, "you know?"

James smirked. "Shagging each other?"

Callie rolled her eyes. "Such a British word."

"Describes it well enough."

"Not lately," she shot back at him. "It's like…it's like you like me, not just lusting after the easy option I present."

James's eyes shot straight to Callie's. "Just lusting after the easy option you present?" he repeated. "That's what you think this is?"

Callie threw her hands in the air. "I don't know! We don't talk, we just fuck." She knew they were about to have an argument, something that was fairly new between the two of them, but she couldn't be bothered to care. She really just wanted to know.

"You Americans have such crude terms for things, you know that?"

"Doesn't make my question any less viable."

"And what was your question?" James burst out. "You wake me up in the middle of the night to ask me what? Why we keep having sex? What my feelings are for you? Why you can't just fucking ditch bloody Ryan?" James sneered. "Well you know what, _Sunny, _you need to grow a pair and stand up to him, stop being such a scaredy-cat. Or I'm going to do it for you. Because he's just going to keep hurting and handling you. And do you honestly think I don't know where you were last night? I know you lied. I know you went out with Ryan. And judging by those _lovely_ scratches up your thighs, he did the same thing to you he's been doing for months."

Callie's hands flew to her legs, attempting to cover up the red marks.

James scoffed, seeing what she was doing. "I'm not bluffing. I'm going to tell my father and get him to arrest your fiancé or rejoin the Auror department and arrest him myself if you don't ditch him or get him to stop, by God. And what are you still doing with him anyways when you're here, fucking me?"

Callie stood up from the bed, about to leave. "I didn't do anything to deserve this. I come in here to ask you-"

"To ask me if I shag you all the time because I just have a perpetual hard-on and you're placed conveniently here to ease it?" James interrupted, standing as well, "Or if it's because I'm madly in love with you and take every chance I have to get my hands on you?"

"Fine!" Callie shouted. She had no doubt they'd awakened all of the neighbors in their building by now. "Maybe that was what I wanted to know! Are you happy? Happy that I want to be with you so much more than with my fiancé? Happy that I decided not to move to California, because I don't want to live so far away from you?" Callie's face was desperate.

"It's the second one," James choked out finally. "I do it because I'm in love with you."

"You jump, I jump, Jack," Callie responded, unaware of her lips moving and sound coming out, her voice less than a whisper.

And then his lips were on hers, maddening her with desire, passionate, fierce, fearless, and loving.

They tumbled onto his bed, rolling, fighting for dominance, to show how much they loved the other. Because Callie did. She loved him and James knew, just from her response.

He kissed every inch of her, savoring how she felt against him, how their bodies moved together.

He showed her just how much he loved her this time, and he was going to for every time in the future. Because he knew that they would love each other forever. Some people only fall in love once, others many times. James and Callie, they'd fallen in love with each other years ago and neither were ever going to turn back.

They just had to deal with Ryan, now.


	13. Chapter 13

James and Callie spent the next few days dancing around each other. They'd reached an unspoken agreement: neither would acknowledge or mention what had happened until that ring gracing Callie's fourth finger on her left hand disappeared.

Callie wasn't sure how they'd reached that conclusion, but they'd never really needed words to communicate. They'd woken up next to each other, grinned sheepishly, glanced at each other and the ring, and just knew.

And Callie was on her way to rectify the situation right then.

She stood anxiously outside of Ryan's apartment. She really didn't know why people called them 'flats'. They were never _flat_. Buildings are 3D, not 2D.

Callie knocked. No answer.

She pulled out her key and entered, calling, "Ryan, are you here?"

There were no sounds from inside his flat. It was as silent as the ocean after a storm, resting up before it decided to get angry again.

Callie shrugged and scrawled a note to Ryan, taping it on the refrigerator door, asking him about dinner for Thursday night.

She headed back to her apartment to get ready for Quidditch practice, rather than send Ryan an owl at work.

* * *

><p>"Oi, Callie!"<p>

Callie grabbed her towel and stepped out of the shower, into the more open area in the locker room. "Yeah?"

"James is looking for you," Keegan said. "He said something about dinner tonight at someplace called 'the Burrow'." Keegan shrugged. "I'm hoping it makes sense to you."

Callie laughed. "It does. Is he still here?"

"James was putting away a bunch of equipment," Meggie added from the other side of the locker room, tying her shoelaces, "if that's who you're talking about."

Callie threw on her clothes quickly before stepping back out onto the field. She spotted James sitting by himself on top of the trunk filled with the quaffle, bludgers, and snitch.

"Hey," she said, lying down on the grass in front of him. She stretched out and decided the sun was nice, warm, and that she was going to attempt to get a tan for once in her life since moving permanently to England. Though her dad had moved to London for business, they'd spent almost all of summer vacation in California. She'd always come back to Hogwarts with an amazing tan. Now that she lived in England all year long, that tan didn't really exist.

"Hey," he muttered. "We're supposed to head off to the Burrow tonight for dinner. Whole family's gathering there." James slid off the trunk and onto the grass, flopping out in a spread eagle.

"Don't you sound excited."

James made some noncommittal noise.

"What's got you in this funk?"

Silence.

Callie rolled her eyes and decided to enjoy the sun rather than continue to ask. He'd talk when he felt like it.

She only had to wait a few minutes.

"My dad knows."

"Your dad knows what?"

"He knows we slept together. He knows Ryan hurts you. He knows."

Callie could hear the defeated shrugging in James's voice, just as anger and betrayal flooded her own veins.

"How could you?" she accused, sitting up.

"Callie, I had to do something. He's _abusing _you, for God's sake. I can't just sit by while my best friend is getting hurt, coming home with bruises and scratches. And come on," James sat up, too, then, looking Callie straight in the eye, "you already heal everything before you come home, don't you? That means they were so bad that even after healing them, those bruises are still there. Maybe not as bad, but _they're still there._"

"I'm not going to the Burrow tonight," Callie said. There was no way she was going there, going to face Harry when he knew exactly what was going on. Absolutely no way.

"Yes, you are. He'll be more suspicious if you don't. He'll think it was so bad that you couldn't get up to get to the Burrow. He'll probably come looking for you. Have you ever missed a dinner with us?"

Callie didn't respond.

"I didn't think so."

"And what am I supposed to do? When your dad attempts to get me to talk about it, or say what's going on, admit to it. I'm going to look weak," Callie's eyes started to water and she fought desperately to keep the tears at bay. "I'm going to look like I can't handle myself, like I can't even act like a grown up, can't deal with my problems. Like I can't do anything by myself."

James reached down and grasped Callie's hand in his. "Asking for help isn't weak."

"But I didn't ask. I don't want it." Callie slipped her hand out of James's. His hand twitched before he brought it back to his side, an angry frown now etched on his face.

"I feel like I'm parenting you sometimes, you know that?" James was exasperated. "Whatever happened to your father, eh? Why isn't he here, protecting his baby girl?"

Callie very nearly bared her teeth at James. She felt like growling. Her father barely acknowledged that he had a daughter, anymore. When they did see each other, their encounters were punctuated by awkward silences. They spoke in short clips, bursts of harsh words, never interrupted by an apology. Callie's father hadn't wanted to raise a witch. He thought she'd been abnormal, unusual. He'd tried every way he could think of to get rid of her magic. He'd even brought in priests and medicine men from Africa to exorcise her, for God's sake.

As Callie had learned what Death Eaters were in History of Magic, she'd begun to see the same characteristics in her father. He hated magic with a passion matched only by how much Death Eaters had hated muggles.

Callie was always going to be incredibly grateful for having James as a best friend. He had understood exactly what she meant when she talked about her dad, having heard similar tales from his own father about his great-uncle, Vernon Dursley. Callie could still remember when Harry had found her in the tree just outside of the window of James's bedroom. The window she'd climbed out of onto those branches. She'd received a letter from her father, denouncing her magical ability, again, and by extension, her. Harry had climbed up the tree and sat with her, explaining how he'd grown up. It made Callie feel so much closer to the Potter family, and, according to James, was when Harry and Ginny had started treating her like their own daughter.

They'd sent letters to her at school, just like they'd done with James and Al, and still did with Lily. They invited her to stay with them during the holidays. Callie received a total of twelve letters from her father all seven years she was at Hogwarts. Five of them were from her first year, when he was still sure something had gone wrong and she should return to the prestigious American school in London she was 'supposed to be attending'.

"I don't have a father," Callie spat at James. "But thanks for dredging all those painful feelings up. I really appreciate that."

"Callie," James sighed.

Callie shook her head. "I can't do this now. I'll go to dinner with you, but let's just forget about it. I don't want to fight and that seems to be all we're doing recently."

"I'm trying to help," James said. "You're not acting like yourself anymore. And if you don't end things with Ryan, I really am going to get him arrested."

Callie nodded. "I know you will," she whispered.


	14. Chapter 14

Callie hid in the closet under the stairs. She couldn't go out and face Harry. Or James. Or possibly Ginny. Harry might have told his wife.

She clutched tighter to the bottle of firewhiskey in her hands. If she went out there, any one of them could see her. Any one of them could see her and start interrogating her. Or worse, send pitying looks at her and try to 'help' or 'save' her.

The door to the closet opened roughly and someone jumped inside, closing the door behind them quickly and quietly.

"James? What are you doing?" Callie asked.

James shrugged sheepishly and ran a hand through his hair. "What you're doing: avoiding my family."

Callie didn't bother arguing. "How come?"

"If they see me and don't see you, they're going to wonder what's wrong. And my dad sucks at lying. So when they ask him, they'll figure out that something actually is wrong."

"Thanks for hiding out, then."

"Of course. You know I'd do anything for you. You'd do the same for me. You jump, I jump, Jack."

"You jump, I jump, Jack," Callie repeated softly. She reached up and traced James's cheekbone and jaw with her fingertips. His muscles quivered and flexed under her touch. "Where do you want to jump?"

* * *

><p>Their legs jittered through dinner, waiting anxiously to get out of the Burrow. They left hastily at the first possible second, rushing through goodbyes in their haste to get back to their flat, and receiving tons of strange looks from their family for it.<p>

The second they landed in the entrance hall, they were on each other.

Tongues and lips clashed in a fight for fiery dominance, hands caressed and held. They crashed into each other, tumbling and falling onto the floor in the entrance hall, then the kitchen table, the couch, and finally, the bed.

Sated, they fell into a state of exhaustion. Callie pulled the comforter up over them in James's bed. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into him and nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck.

"How wrong is it that this feels so good?" he whispered.

"Feels better than good."

"I just hope it always feels like this."

* * *

><p>Callie watched as Ryan's hands clenched into fists at his side and his eyes darkened. "I come over here," he spat, "to see if you wanted to come to dinner, and this is what I find?"<p>

He gestured at the tousled sheets on, not her bed, but James's bed, then at her clothing: James's t-shirt. She'd grabbed it when she'd woken up, loving the feel of the starched cotton of the button-down, but in hindsight, it had been an awful idea.

"Ryan-"

"No," he snarled. "Don't even try it. I don't know what I ever saw in an ugly, American slut like you." He stalked forward towards her and Callie stepped back unconsciously.

She wanted to call for James, scream his name – in fear this time, not pure pleasure – but he wasn't here, he was at his parents' and he couldn't hear her. She took another step back.

Ryan saw the movement. "You're scared, aren't you?" He laughed maniacally.

Callie felt a trembling begin, starting in her hands. Her fingers were shaking.

What had happened to him? He used to be so nice, so normal. He used to be funny and sweet. What had caused him to change so? When had it happened? She remembered the first blows, months ago. But what had caused this? Why had he become this, this monster?

"Ryan, stop, you don't know what you're doing."

He sneered. He grabbed Callie's forearms and shook her violently. "You don't cheat on me! You're nothing! You don't deserve me." A malicious snarl echoed in his voice.

"Stop, stop," Callie pleaded. She sounded pathetic to herself. She used to stand up for herself, fight. Ryan had turned her into a weakling. He'd destroyed the self-confidence she'd had in herself. Only when she was with James did she ever feel anything like happiness.

Ryan threw her down on the ground, sent her crashing into the edge of the bed, hitting her rib cage.

The painful gasp of breath and shooting pain told her that she'd probably a broken rib.

"Why should I stop?" he knelt down close to her, his breath sticky in her ear. "_You _betrayed _me_. Remember? You cheated on me with the Potter scum. You _deserve _it."

Callie whimpered as his fingernails dug into her upper arms. Callie knew exactly when he saw the mark James had left on Callie's neck. Ryan let go of her arms suddenly and, with a roar, backhanded her across the cheek. Her head slammed into the baseboard of the bed.

She felt dizzy. Was something sticky dripping down her face? She reached up and touched her fingers to it. Red. Blood.

The pain felt like it was consuming her, now. The throbbing in her head and cheek, the startling shoots of what felt like stabs coming from her ribcage with every breath she took. Not to mention all the places she was sure where there would be bruises.

He'd never actually broken anything. He'd never hurt her this much.

The dizziness was beginning to consume her. Was the ceiling supposed to be spinning?

She thought she heard the door slam open, then shut, as Ryan rammed her into the bed again. She wished she could fight back. She just wanted to fight back, to hit him and hurt him as he had done the same to her, but she was too dizzy to see him, let alone to land a punch.

"STUPEFY!" a roar hit her hears and she saw Ryan go down.

"Callie," the voice said. Someone dropped to their knees above her, smoothing hair away from her face. "Callie, Callie, you'll be okay, just stay with me, come on, come on, Callie, you can do this. Come on, Callie, please," the voice pleaded with her.

Callie looked up and saw James hovering over her, his face constricted as he worried over his best friend, lying on the carpet, her blood staining her usually blonde hair, breaths coming in shallow pants.

"It's okay, Sunny, help's on the way. Someone's on the way, don't worry. It's okay."

"James," she croaked, "d-don't leave me."

"I won't," he shook his head. His voice cracked. "You jump, I jump, remember?"

Callie nodded and her vision turned black.

* * *

><p><strong>One chapter left after this! Please review!<strong>


	15. Chapter 15

Callie woke up to the most irritating beeping noise she'd ever heard.

She opened her eyes to see only white. She realized it was the ceiling a bit later.

Her limbs ached, heaviness was settled into them, and her head was pounding. She reached her hand up to her head only to discover it was bandaged thoroughly, the gauze the same color as the ceiling.

"Callie?"

She whipped her head to the side, and regretted it when the room started to spin. There, sitting in a chair next to her bed, was James, looking too worried for Callie's taste.

"James?" Her voice was croaky and her throat sore.

"Yeah, Cal," James gave her a bittersweet, tight smile. "It's me; I'm here."

Callie's eyes darted around the room. St. Mungo's. The last time she'd been there she'd gotten a concussion and a broken foot from a bludger, and a fall, during a game against the Tutshill Tornadoes.

"What happened?"

James held onto her hand and rubbed his thumb comfortingly across the back of it. "You passed out a few seconds after I got there," he said. "My dad and Uncle Ron showed up along with Scorpius and the three of them got Ryan. I brought you to the hospital." He paused. "Everyone knows now, Sunny. Sorry."

Callie shrugged. She couldn't be brought to care at the moment. All she could really think right then, was that she was free. Free from Ryan. Forever.

"How bad?" she finally asked.

James winced slightly and ran a hand through his hair. "A broken rib and two bruised ones, sprained wrist, and a bunch of bruises and nasty-looking cuts. You…you have a really bad concussion, too."

That would explain why Callie felt like she was a living injury. Because she actually was.

"When can I get out of here?"

James scoffed. "You're kidding, right?"

Callie just glared at him. She felt too tired to make any jokes or even laugh or smile. She just wanted to rest, but before that she wanted a hug from James. One of those hugs of his that just made her feel better, instantly. She'd always thought his hugs had some sort of healing power. All of the Potters and most of their family had that kind of hug.

"Cal," James's face had a pitying look on it, "you're going to be out for awhile. The healers fixed your hand and ribs, but the concussion is bad. Real bad, Sunny. They weren't sure if you were going to wake up at all." James's voice tightened as he spoke those words.

Callie squeezed his fingers. "I'm sorry."

James shrugged. "S'okay."

"No, it's not. I'm sorry for everything."

"We don't say 'sorry', remember?" James gave her a half-hearted attempt at a smile. But it was clear to Callie that he was still worrying, still thinking about her unconscious, prone figure, wondering if she was ever going to open her eyes again, smile at him again.

James climbed up on the bed and sat next to Callie, wrapping his arm around her. Callie leaned into him gratefully, resting her head on his chest.

Ginny found them like that, peacefully asleep, when she walked into the room half an hour later.

* * *

><p>"James, I'm fine," Callie said for what felt like the three-hundredth time.<p>

"You sure?" His eyes darted over her, as if he had x-ray vision and could tell whether she was lying or not.

"Yes," Callie gritted her teeth. "I love you and all, but get away from me."

James's face broke into a grin. "You love me?"

Callie rolled her eyes but smiled back. "'Course I do. But if you don't go now, you're going to be late for dinner and Molly is going to castrate you. And then where would we be?" she pouted before laughing.

James sighed and walked over to where she was seated on the couch. "I don't want to go."

"Yes, you do."

"Are you sure you can't come with me?"

Callie perked up. "You're going to let me leave this couch?"

"Never mind," James shook his head. "You're not leaving this couch until I get the okay from three healers."

"Don't you think you're being a bit over-protective?"

"Nope," James popped the 'p' and leaned over to kiss her briefly. "I think I'm being perfectly relaxed considering you nearly died two weeks ago."

"Yeah," Callie stressed, "two weeks ago. In wizard healing, that's like twenty years. I'm all healed, and you won't let me do anything."

"You're really saying I won't let you do _anything_?" James raised his eyebrows.

Callie laughed. "You get something out of that, too."

"True," James shrugged, unashamed. He reached out and played with her fingers, getting bored and moving on to her hair. "You scared me so bad," he muttered, savoring the golden locks; they weren't stained red with her blood, but he'd always remember them looking that way.

"I'm sorry," Callie whispered. She looked up at James to see him staring back at her, unyielding. "James?"

"Will you marry me?"

Callie felt frozen. She couldn't move. "W-what did you say?"

"Will you marry me?" James repeated, his voice clear and strong. He smiled at her. "Should I say please?" he teased.

Callie laughed. "You jump, I jump, Jack." She didn't even need to think about it. She felt weightless, free, loved. Incredibly happy. Blissful. This feeling couldn't last, but it had to. It should. It was _James._

Callie laughed again and threw herself on top of James. "Yes, yes, yes, yes!" she cried, kissing him with so much force and abandon James had to pull her back to catch a breath.

"So I'm guessing that's a yes, then?" James smirked.

"Oh, shut up."

"I love you." He loved that he could say that, now. That she felt the same. Everything just felt _right _in the world. Just the way it was supposed to be.

"I love you, too."

She didn't even notice him pull out a ring and slip in onto her finger.

* * *

><p>Three days later, after announcing the news to the family (Molly cried, Ginny tried not to but she absolutely did, James would even venture to guess that Harry had, too), they jumped on a plane to California and eloped.<p>

"Psst, Callie," James said, in the middle of the wedding.

The minister shot him an angry look, to which James just rolled his eyes. It's not like he was interrupting anything. They were the only ones _there_.

"What?"

"Am I allowed to be cheesy for approximately twelve seconds?"

"Only if you do something completely not-cheesy after."

"Fine." James paused. Was there a way to say this without coming out of it looking like a total pansy? No, James really didn't think there was. "I love you and you're my happily ever after."

Callie gaped at him.

"Moment over," James turned back to the minister. He didn't see Callie jump onto him, legs wrapped around his waist. He stumbled to catch her.

"Screw this, we'll get married at the Burrow," she mumbled, before latching her arms around his neck and her lips onto his. "For the record," she said when they came up for breath, "you're my happily ever after, too."

"Hem, hem," the minister cleared his throat, causing James and Callie to part. "You both still owe me $340, plus tip."

"$340?" Callie repeated. "You said you were $50!"

"Plus tip," the minister said.

James dug into his pockets for cash. "Fucking Americans."

"You know you love me!" Callie laughed. Then she kissed him again.

"You jump, I jump, Jack."


End file.
